Argosy All-Story Weekly — "The Purple Limited" — page 105: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE STRAY-MAN. the porch column and ran swiftly toward the horse. For the horse was not riderless—and it was Red King. She saw that the horse was coming slow- ly, and that upon his- back, crumpled for- ward over the saddle-horn, was a man. She knew, even before she reached him, that the man was Shorty. But without ut- tering a sound she gained Red King’s head and drew him down. Then she ran to Shorty. Shorty was lashed to the saddle with his own rope. He was limp and unconscious; his head was hanging so that it touched Red King’s mane, and his arms were dang- ling with an inertness that hinted of dread - finality. CHAPTER XI. THE NEW BOSS. HORTY’S dreams had been troubled. There were times when he did not know whether he was asleep or awake, for there were periods when his dreams were so vivid that he felt he coyld be rea- sonably certain they were not dreams at all, but actual, living, waking incidents. So it was with the figures he saw flitting around him, and with the voices he heard. On one occasion he was positive he saw the face of the girl of the water-hole near him, her eyes, large and anxious, peering at him. And there were other times when he heard the voices of men, and saw men’s _ faces close to him. One of these he was certain belonged to the man who had been his guest at breakfast in Loma one morn- ing—seemingly ages ago. And another seemed to belong to a man who insisted upon turning him over to look at his back, and who poured noxious potions down his throat. Still angther face belonged to a _ big man who at times came and stood near him, seeming to look down at him. And there were times when Shorty could not understand how it was that he seemed to see windows with sunlightsstreaming in them — sunlight subdued by gauzy things that fluttered tike the wings of some giant bird. All these were puzzling, mysterious. - conscious all along—all his life. 671 ' And yet Shorty was comfortable. He was lying on something that was very soft — to the touch, with a fresh coolness that he thoroughly enjoyed. And under his head was something still softer than that upon which his body rested. It seemed to him that aeons of time had passed before he be- came aware of the comfort and the cool- ness of his body, for there had been an in- terminable period when he had been racked with pains and heat and a thousand other torturing sensations. But gradually he was beginning to real- ize that the visions he saw were not all dreams. There was a time when he felt a hand on his forehead, gently smoothing it; - and the sensation was so unusual that he found himself sitting up, only to be forced back again, and to hear a distant voice saying: ‘* Please lie down, Mr. Nelson.” The voice was so pleasant that he had replied to it, saying: “T reckon I will, if you want it.” And then he had heard the same voice say, as though its owner were delighted over | something: “Qh, daddy; he is conscious! ”’ Certainly he was conscious; he had been That thought made him smile. But it seemed to be long before he heard a man’s voice, Saying: ‘Yes; he’s all right now. I'll be getting along. All he needs is care—lots of it. He’s a pretty husky specimen; that kind of man will stand any amount of thumping around.” When Shorty was able to fix the flutter- ing things firmly in his vision—which he succeeded in doing on the third day after his arrival at the Circle Star—he saw that they were lace curtains. Thereafter he saw other things, more clearly. And he began to remember what had happened to him.’ - He was lying motionless, flat on his back, staring at the ceiling and enjoying the cool breeze that swept over him, when he heard a sound and saw the girl he had met at the water-hole standing at the side of the bed looking down at him. He smiled at the quick leap of her eyes. nn (C(O) ”) 6)(0)©) S (C(O) nn