Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 25, 1924 — page 17: what you’re looking at

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

VALOR. 7 from her and poured the water into it. His face, smooth and brown, guileless as the face of a schoolboy, betrayed nothing of his thoughts. She took the pan from him. “Would you like to see them?” she asked him; and moving a little aside, she invited him to mount the wagon. ‘““T’ll come in round the back,” he said, and moved from her sight. So she climbed over the seat again and disappeared under the hood. As he walked to the back of the wagon, David carried behind that serene brown countenance a troubled conscience. For he was heartily loyal to that grim, misunder- standing old man who was his father, and the first expert appraisal he had made of this strange girl’s equipage had revealed to him that its horses carried the twisted, ugly brand of the Monkey-wrench. It appeared like he had: said too much, reflected David, as he stuck his head under the hood at the rear of the wagon. He almost bumped it against the head of the girl. This sudden proximity surprised David, and for a moment embarrassed him, but the emphatic darkness of the wagon’s interior covered his confusion. Then a damp nose was thrust against his face and a limp tongue licked his chin frantically. His eyes, becoming abruptly adjusted to the shadow, he saw that the girl was bend- ing over three wriggling, white puppies, and then, seeing the little animals more clearly, he drew up his head in surprise. They were like no other puppies he had ever seen. The girl laughed, thinking the pups had startled him. “ They won’t bite,” she chuckled. ~“ What are they?” he questioned. Her eyes danced very close to his. “ That’s the first question you’ve asked me,” she said, and David was astounded to hear a note of protest in her voice. ‘This incomprehensible female actually wanted him to question her! The realization struck him with the insistence of a warn- ing. The boy drew into himself immedi- ately. “'They’re shore queer lookin’ pups,” he remarked. : David had never seen a dog like one of thesé upon the range, but he had a dim recollection of pictures which resembled them. ‘““My goodness! Haven’t you ever seen a terrier before?’’ demanded the girl. “Not that looked thataway,” David. “‘ What yo’ say they are?” “English bull terriers.” She bent over them and watched as they greedily lapped up the water, with a maternal pride. “They’re thoroughbreds. I’d have had “em before, only oo toodn’t leave oo muzzer, tood oo?” ‘This last question she addressed with gay absurdity to the puppies, sweep- ing down upon them with one hand and tumbling them over. Greedily they ignored her rough playfulness and scrambled back to their drinking. “I drove all the way over to White Oak for them,” she boasted. Again it came to his lips to question her; to ask who she was, and what had brought her to this barren country. But again his question was silenced by the etiquette of the range—and something more. David felt irrationally shy of this strange creature. Something within him was strongly urging him that he was just wastin’ good time to waltz around thisaway with a kid girl. And she was a pilgrim at that. David felt instinctively that this meeting could just come to an end whenever it wanted to. For all of him, it couldn’t end too quickly. But he didn’t talk about it. He merely gazed impassively at the pup- pies. “ Bull terriers?” he said idly. “Yes. You don’t mean_to tell me you haven’t ever even heard of them?” “ Shore,” admitted David. ‘I’ve heard of them. Their jaws are right strong, ain’t they?” She nodded. “Strong as iron. never let go when their blood is up.” said They “You mean they just hang on to what- ever they lay hold of?” “You bet they do. They’re famous for that. If they ever get a hold on anything, no matter what it is or who, you can’t break their hold; not unless you kill them or pry ‘em loose with a crowbar, I guess.” He gazed at the puppies with a new in- terest. ‘“‘T like that,” he remarked. “Do you? Why?” Her dancing gray COMMICLOOOKS (E@)