Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 2, 1922 — page 151: what you’re looking at

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

THE TRUE They wavered in the drifting smoke, with their stomachs full for the moment. Thorne was intact, but one of the men lay stretched, ' groaning, upon the floor. Captain Nippy was deliberately reloading. Warriner shot him as he rammed home the bullet, and he ‘rolled over the other wounded man. ‘Come on, you damned laggards!” cried Thorne. ‘ That’s his last shot!” So they came on again, a packed mass of bodies. Warriner flung his second pistol and struck Thorne between the eyes, smash- ing him back into the arms of his men. Then he knelt with a long thrust and drove his point a good two inches into the shoul- der of Toby Snarg. Again the wave re- ceded, but only for a.moment. And now Warriner knew that they would warm to the fighting and give him trouble, hell-hot. “Crush him down!” shouted Thorne. “ What are your clubs for?” He snatched a cudgel from one of the men. Snarg, with his horrible grin spread until every yellow tooth in his head was revealed, drew a knife. Cut and thrust! Parry! Thrust! The heavy saber played like a living thing in the hand of -John Peter Warriner. The cud- gels rattled upon his blade. The long knife of Snarg flashed in and out, trying to get under his guard. He was driven backward up the last section of the stairs. Let him be forced away from the head of the stairway and the end would be in sight. After that he could only stand with his back against the wall and fight to the death. There would be no mercy now among those blood-maddened men. Fortunately no more than two could reach him effectively at once. He held long, but at last he was on the top stair. Then, under a terrific blow from a club, his saber broke and he wase left with a foot-long stump. It was the end, he thought bitterly, come just when there wasea slight chance of*victory. For Thorne was down on the landing, leaning, deathly pale against the wall, with both hands pressed to his side. Two others sprawled upon the stairs. The attack had begun to slacken. Now Snarg pressed him. His left arm hung useless, but he handled the knife with undiminished vigor. He called to the men STEEL. 621 to come on and finish it. Warriner gripped the stump of his saber to meet the last at- tack—and suddenly jerked backward at a frantic pull upon his arm. He looked down into the wide black eyes of Marianne For- tier. “The true steel, monsieur!” she panted, thrusting the crusader’s dagger into his hand. “ God and the Virgin be with you!” At sight of her there was a shout from the stairs. Warriner turned barely in time to meet the blade of Snarg. Knife and dagger locked and hung for an instant. Snarg and Warriner blocked the stairway. The others drew back, tacitly. “ Hail, Mary, full of grace—” The words struck upon Warriner’s ears and he knew that Marianne was there, be- hind him. The knowledge gave him the strength of ten. Snarg disengaged and thrust. Warriner took a long flesh wound upon his arm. His coat sleeve flapped. Certainly Snarg was a devil with the knife. “the Lord is with thee—” Thrust and parry! ‘Thrust! The points each found flesh. Snarg staggered. But his blade had slid along Warriner’s ribs. Lights danced before his eyes. “Pray for us sinners, now—” True steel, she had said. Warriner feinted and lunged with all the desperation of failing strength. A groan. Snarg lost his footing. He heaved mightily backward, his grinning face going down like a waning moon of the infernal regions. At the same moment the hall below filled with a roar of voices. Creagan and his men at last! Those on the stairs who could turned and plunged down, charging for liberty. The fight filled the house with a mighty clamor. John Peter Warriner staggered to a chair and dropped into it, gasping. Marianne, with wet and shining eyes, pulled at the flapping sleeve. ‘Your wounds!” she cried. dress them at once!”’ “You didn’t go!” he panted. “Go while there was danger?” she ex- claimed. ‘“ Do you think it isa woman of that nature whom you have asked to be your wife? Ah, I have much to teach you, my Jean Pierre!”’ “TI must Gomichbooks;com