Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 25, 1924 — page 61: what you’re looking at

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

THE DANCING DOLL. —_- girl who had challenged him—a white girl this time, dregs of Paris, no doubt—and seizing her thin wrists he swung her into the whirlpool of the apache dance. Presently she too was exhausted and he threw her aside so that she crawled out of the firelight, groaning. They were realistic, these hilltop dances! Often they ended in bruises, sometimes with a broken bone. But Louie was insatiable. Girl after girl he caught up and threw aside and still he seemed tireless. Presently he had to stop. No one chal- lenged him, He strutted about and cried contemptu- ously: ‘‘ What’s the matter. Are you all scared, you girls? Sacré name of a pig! If I were in Paris there would be twenty girls ready to dance me down.” But at that moment a flaming gardenia fell at his feet and he picked it up with a pleased smile. A girl had flung herself at him out of the shadows and Louie ex- claimed, ‘‘ Ah ha! A new one! Well, never mind, we shail soon be acquainted,” and the next instant Tina was flying in wild ecstasy. She did not know how it had hap- pened. The impulse had seized her and there she was! She had never before felt anything like this fury, this speed, this blind passion for combat. As she crouched and stepped menacingly about her partner she imagined that she wanted to spring at his throat, to drink his blood. It did not seem like make- believe. She felt the lust for murder in her blood. And when she swirled frantically in his embrace, she seemed to be no longer human. They were wild feline creatures of the jungle. Then in the middle of it, the apache thrust back her head, bent over her face greedily and kissed her full on the mouth, a cruel, sensual kiss that stung. That was more than Tina had bargained for. The spell was broken. With a fierce cry the girl darted at him and fastened her sharp teeth in his throat. Cursing, he put all his strength into a thrust that sent her reeling.. She stumbled, lay for a moment crushed and gasping, then as the cheers and catcalls rose with deafening fury all about her, she struggled dL to her feet and ran, crouching and limping into the darkness. Louie, the apache, swore that he would find that tiger-cat and subdue her if he had to tear down every hut on the hilltop. - He was disappointed. No one could tell him where she had gone. No one knew who she was. But Tina had learned the Danse des Apaches! CHAPTER XI. A MOMENT OF TERROR. FTER that wild night with the hill gang, Tina watched Margot’s dance with the eyes of a critical rival. Compared to the abandon of the apache dance, the girlish loveliness of Margot’s performance seemed a little tame. Tina believed that when her chance came, she would astonish the patrons of La Scala, just as she had won applause on the hill top. She only feared that George’s infatuation would go so far that he would not part from the Dancing Doll. When she danced he looked on with the glowing eyes ‘of a lover. One evening he hurried to Tina’s desk with a glance over his shoulder and said: “ There’s a guy from New York in the house. See! At the table near the piano.” Tina looked at the stranger, a ruddy faced, well-built chap in clothes that said emphatically, “ Broadway.” ~~ ‘““My God,” she exclaimed. ‘ He’s not a dick, is he? Do you think he’s after us?” “No. He’s in the show business. Got a vaudeville circuit. It’s Jim Harbison, a fellow I met at the Grotto.” “ Are you going to speak to him?” “No. It’s taking a chance. Harbison is a white man, white all through. But he might let it out in New York if he recog- nized me, not meaning any harm. There would be hell to pay if the bulls got on my trail.” “ Don’t worry. He’ll never know you in~ that beard. Besides your figure is heavier, and your clothes are different. He’ll never guess that George Marchand is the old Hap- py George Marcanda.” NOOK =} (C@ . (C@)