Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 6, 1923 — page 115: what you’re looking at

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

THE AVENGING SHEPHERD. prettily. name—’’ Joseph found her very alluring as her eyes dared him to answer while he hesi- tated, torn between the desire to tell her and the fear of cutting himself off from her forever if he did. To tell her that his father had not killed hers would be only to invite questions—to prove his words— and the time for that was not yet. And then, wisdom whispered to him that this girl must find out the truth for herself. So he said only: *¢ Joseph.” ‘¢ Just—Joseph?” Necia whispered. He did not reply, nor did he catch the wistful light that crept into her eyes. He knew she was waiting for him to answer, and he nodded his head unhappily. ‘ Just—Joseph,” he said, repeating her words, and his voice was strange to his own ears. “That sounds very mysterious,” she went on after a moment; ‘“ almost as if— as if it explained your presence in Nevada.” “You mean that I withhold my name from you because there is a blot on it?” Joseph asked, misunderstanding Necia’s in- ference. ‘“No—no; not that,” she hastened to answer. She felt his eyes searching her own, and she colored as she struggled for words with which to express her thought. She stiffened as the boy said flatly: “But this 7s my reason.’ Necia stared at Joseph, trying to read his secret. She shook her head at last and smiled faintly. “An injustice—a wrong! Something you are going to avenge—” she murmured, and then: ‘““T think that is exactly what I meant —not that you had come here to hide.” Joseph glanced at her shrewdly. “ Why—why do you think that?” he asked. “TIT sensed it the moment you came in. Your speech is strange; you are hardly one of us—and yet, as you faced Senor Trosabal, I saw revenge flash in your eyes for a brief second. Your face was cruel. I even thought he cowered. He is a power- ful man; and he has made many enemies.” TA You—might give me _ your 897 Thoroughly disturbed by Necia’s train of thought, the boy turned away, his eyes veiled. ‘“ See—your face is hard now,” she mur- mured. ‘I have guessed the truth.” Joseph did not reply. Unconsciously, Necia placed her hand upon his arm. “Does it mean so much to you?” she sked. ‘“ Everything,” Joseph nodded quietly. “T might have known you would say that. I am sorry—truly. Revenge is so hopeless. It can bring you no happiness.” Her voice suddenly sounded sad. Joseph glanced up quickly, but Necia was looking beyond him at the great moon floating so lazily above the dim crest of distant Buck- skin. “You say that very positively,” he said. Necia nodded. “My own life has proved it,” she mur- mured, ‘her voice trailing off into a whisper. “My grandfather never forgets or forgives a wrong. From childhood, I seem to see him as always having been bent on righting the wrongs men had done him. He has never quite caught up with his revenge. I wonder, sometimes, if he realizes that he has no friends. Hardly any one comes here. It is very lonely—I feel it. We are never asked about. Men say that no one has ever got the best of grandfather—I wonder what else they say of him.” WNecia’s thoughts wandered for a moment. “If he had only forgiven one or two,” she went on, ‘‘ he would have had friends to- day. Heneedsthem. But he’ll not change. That you find a Basque in his home, after all his years of hating them, does not mean that he has changed. Angel Irosabal brings him a profit. Grandfather has sworn his life to hating sheep and sheepmen— the Basques in particular—and he will go to his grave dreaming of avenging some wrong they did him. And yet, to my knowledge, it has been twelve years since a herder has infringed on him. My own father was killed in a fence fight—a victim of this very spirit of revenge.” “Your father—Kit Dorr?” asked Joseph. Necia’s eyes came back to the boy. ‘You knew him?” she questioned. ‘““T have heard men speak his name. COmiclboo S (©