Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 5, 1921 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

a04 was a yellow envelope with black lettering, ‘‘ Cablegram’’ across its face, and she tore it open hastily. When she had read it she looked up at Billie, pale and trembling. ‘“‘ He is coming,” she said in a low voice. “ He is sailing in a boat that left England yesterday.” The life of the ranch was all around them, and yet they were alone as though the valley had been empty as the sky above. Their eyes went to meet each other’s, and for a moment the veil between them dropped. “Are you going to marry him?” Billie asked. ‘‘Is that what he is coming for?” She returned his look, and her face quivered slightly. ‘““T__J—don’t know. I have promised.” ‘You loved him—-you love him now?”’ ‘“T did—yes—when I left England.” ‘‘Vou’ve changed—you don’t see things as you did—maybe you'd like-—somebody else if you’d let yourself—” “Maybe I would—but I must not. You see, he believes in me—and he mustn't ever find out.” ‘And a man who never done anything —who hasn’t been shot up like he was, hasn’t any right—”’ ‘ Don’t say that. One man may be as brave as another, but that doesn't make it right.” Mrs. Moffatt came to the door and called out to Billie. “Mr. Jack asked me to tell you to fol- low him,” she said. ‘‘ He went away an hour ago and he predicted it would be snowing before night.” The revealing moment was gone. Life dropped back into its old grooves, and what might have been said was left un- spoken. ‘“Shouldn’t wonder if he was right,” Billie acknowledged dully. ‘ Well, [ll be ridin’ after ‘him, I guess.”’ He went off to the corral where Widow Green, already saddled, was tied to a post. From the doorway Geraldine watched ‘him, forgetting the cablegram in her hand. She had often watched him ride away, but to- day there was something in the droop of his shoulders and the square set of his jaw that was different. He was nearer to ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. her because of that second when they had looked into each other’s eyes; but she too realized the moment was over, and life was drawing them apart for all time. But in spite of this she turned back to the ‘house with a warm glow in her heart that spread and spread. until it permeated her whole body in a wave of glad abandon. The cablegram in her hand was a silent re- minder that there would be hours to come which would not be filled with the de- stroying sweetness and uncertainty of this, but not even this thought could banish the knowledge that was now her own. There was no mistaking ‘what she had seen in his eyes, and the woman who reads this lesson once does not forget. The man, coming to her from half way across the world, had sent this same mes- sage to her; once his look had had power to thrill her, but now the thought of his coming, which a little while ago would have meant happiness, left her cold. She put the cablegram in a little inlaid box with his letters. She would not admit that she had ceased to love him; it was as though love had gone to sleep, and its place was usurped by a strange, wild emotion that was like a storm in her quiet heart. She took up his photograph and looked at it long and silently, trying to bring back the old feeling, trying to visual- ize the happy hours they had spent to- gether. But it was all unreal—a part of her life that was over and done with. The new had crowded the old into the back- ground, and if he was to have a part of this the future must mold him to her fresher ideals, Mrs. Moffatt came in from the lean-to kitchen and shut the windows. She was hugging a knit shaw] around her shoulders, ‘“T am sure there is to be a change in the weather,” she said. ‘‘ I have my neu- Titis pain in my left shoulder, and you can almost smell the snow coming. Jarrow | says the storms are fearful in this country and every year hundreds of poor animals: are frozen to death. 1 wish I knew that: all of ours were safe.” ~ Geraldine roused herself from her ab-; straction and glanced from the window