Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 5, 1921 — page 140: what you’re looking at

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

426 harassed eye than that of Swing Kyler might have perceived that his haste was more apparent than actual. Swing Kyler turned toward the safe in the corner. When the Slash. K boys spurred up to the office for their pay ten minutes later, the office door stood open and the office was empty of life. The safe door, likewise, stood open and the safe was empty of money. Swing Kyler was not. Nor was there any sign of»Squinteye Maginn. In sorrow and rage at this last proof of the peculiar perfidy of their employer, tue Slash K outfit rode away. By twos and threes they fled in all directions save one— westward. For in that quarter lay Hatchet and the avenging hand of law and order. Miss Rowland, riding the trail to Lan- der’s, was singing a song. Her heart was as light as the breeze that stirred the sum- mer air, and brought the scent of pine and sweet green growing things. And the song she sang was one long out of fashion, a song Kit Marlowe made and Maudlin sang. Come, live with me, and be my love, And we will all the pleasures. prove That valleys, groves, or hills, or fields, Or woods, and steepy mountajns yield. She broke off andSlooked with tender un- seeing eyes at a clump of pilot daisies flaunting their brown and gold beside the trail ahead. ‘Tf he doesn’t ask me,” she murmured, “ Pll ask him.” She blushed a vivid red and glanced about her quickly as if in fear of eaves- droppers. She laughed, knowing well that she rode solitary in a world of her own that day, and stretched her two arms out straight in front of her. “He held me—once,”’ she said. dear! My dear! My dear!” ee My Her hands dropped on the saddle-horn® and her eyes closed to shut in the picture painted by the magic of her thoughts. Then her horse stopped and her eyes flew open with a, jerk that was almost painful. Before her, blocking the trail, stood Swing Kyler. Even as she stared he laid his hand on her bridle-rein. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ‘T’ve been watching you some time,” he said with a wide, thin-lipped smile. “ Why were you holding out your arms?” She could only stare. 3 “Come,” he continued, and started to lead her horse off the trail. At this her surprised faculties were gal-. vanized into action. She swayed back her reins and struck at him with, the qui she wore on her right wrist. Btt he tained his hold on the bridle of the pl ing, bewildered horse, and dodged her blew.’ The next instant the quirt was held fast in’ his left hand, With a sharp, quick jerk be snapped the wrist thong and dropped the quirt on the ground. ‘Sorry if I hurt your wrist,” he said calmly, and with barely a trace of his Wes- tern accent; “‘ but I can’t have you crack- ing me with a whip, you know.” Impotent, she glared at him, her red under-lip caught between her teeth. ‘“Let me go,” she demanded. He shook his head, and continued to lead her horse through the bushes that flanked the trail and blanketed the level ground be- tween it and the iow pine-clad hill a hun- dred yards distant. At his heac'shake she slid from the sad- die. Her intention had been to run for it. But he had her gripped fast before she could take the first step. ‘Get on that horse,” he said quietly, holding her so tightly that she could scarcely breathe. “T won't!” she gasped. ‘You will if ] have to tie you,” he coun- tered in dull, expressionless tones. ‘“‘ You are going with me.” Slowly he exerted his strength. Her ribs —they were cracking. The breath whis- tled from her cramped lungs. A button on his shirt front was mashing her nose. “I don’t want to hurt you,” continued the voice within six inches of her ear, “‘ but you are going with me. Willingly or unwilling- ly, quietly or otherwise, you are going. Is it to be quietly?” The terrible pressure on her body re- Jaxed somewhat. She contrived to gasp out “No.” Instantky he whirled> her away from him, and whipped her hands behind her. comicbooks,.com