Argosy All-Story Weekly — "The Purple Limited" — page 191: what you’re looking at

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

RED HAGAN PAYS. heavy stalks had fallen, and these tripped him every few feet. He lost his hat. The dry leaves cut his hands and face. He turned and ran straight down a row until it seemed to him that he had run for miles. Again he turned across the rows and in a half dozen steps he found himself m an open field, recently cleared. His spirits rose, and he dropped ito a brisk walk. At the end of the field he came to a grove of heavy evergreens. The ground there was clean, only a few shrubs in clusters here and there; but the dense upper foliage was like a high ceiling painted black, and the straight trunks were like a nave. Hagan thought of the great, forest-like cathedral which he had visjted in one of his enforced flights to Europe. And as the thought of the cathedral flashed through the back of his mind he remembered an in- scription carved in marble in an ancient language over a statue there. He smiled even now as he recalled the guide’s trans- lation: There is no theft. Men always pay. Hagan’s mind coursed back over the last ten years of fast life—the thousands of dol- lars which he had stelen and squandered, the easy living following the hunt. He cauckled to himself: ‘“‘ Men always pay— me.’ He halted abruptly and stared before bim. There was a house looming up un- - expectedly in the middle of the grove. It. was the kind of a house that makes you shiver when you see through trees at twi- light. It was white—not painted—but a pale, ghostly white like driftwood. Hagan knew at once that if it wasn’t haunted, it ought to be. He stood looking at it uncertainly for a moment; then went nearer slowly. With every step he felt-something weigh heavier in the pit of his stomach, and the palms of his hands became moist and hot. Yet he-was not consciously afraid. ” He saw that the house was ancient and deserted. There was a dank, moldy odor pervading the entire vicinity. One or two shutters still rattled lonesomely. The win- dows looked like a blind man’s eyes: dull, 157 and yet they seemed to see. Hagan thought that he saw a figure pass across one of the lower windows, and though he was sure it was not real he turned aside to go around the house. Through the trees he could see the lights of hurrying motor cars on the highway be- yond the grove, and he knew that he had only to gain that road to find the way into the city and a temporary refuge fram those who sought him for old crimes. In front of the house he found an old gravel road that curved up to a rotten portico and then back through the grove to the main road He stepped onto this confidently when suddenly a big touring car roared around a curve ahead of him. It showed no lights, and as it swished past him he saw two pale- faced men straining their eyes into the darkness. He was staring after this car when the bright lights of a second car whirled around the curve in. pursuit. Hagan leaped into the bushes. He knew at once that this-second car carried police. As it flashed past him he saw a man lean out over the hood and fire a pistol in the direction of the first car, which had now turned the curve at the house and was speeding toward the highway. again. Hagan lay very still and white among the bushes. He was frightened. Police! Why were they here? Whom were. they chasing? Had he stumbled into a hunt? He listened eagerly as .the two cars sped down the road, and twice again he heard the crack of the pistol. Night fell damp and cold. T bie moon was racing behind a screen of clouds. Hagan got to his feet quietly. He didn’t step cn the gravel again. Instead, ‘he skirted the bushes back toward the de- serted house. He crept onto the rotten porch, pushed open the sagging door, and went in. Very carefully he closed the door behind him. The rattle of the latch echoed and re- echoed through the empty rooms, and _ un- seen things began to rustle. The moldy air was stirred, and it came down the stair- way and across the hall a a gust from a tomb. Hagan moved down the creaking hallway ‘\ (Conn (C 6)(0)©) S (C(O)