Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 18, 1925 — page 135: what you’re looking at

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

IN “Of my flesh and blood?” she cried, and consumed him with the fire of her eyes. “ And what of the man I love? Is he not more than flesh? Isn’t he more to me than blood, or life, or the desire to live without him?”’ They stood silent before the beauty of her wrath and the fervor which was in her eyes and voice. “Tf you leave here to-night,” she cried, “it will be for him. It will be to ride out and give him aid.” And then her fury fell beneath a cloud which swept over the brilliant flame of her countenance, as thick rain deadens the em- bers of a fire. ‘And quickly!” she almost sobbed, as an awful realization overcame her. ‘ Quick- ly!” she cried. ‘It may even now be too late!”’ She caught up her words with a sharp click of her breath, and her hand flew to her throat as a booming murmur arose above the riot of the winds. Christofferson strode to the window and flung it open. Outside the square was filled with men on horseback and afoot. There wasta motor car with headlights aglow, and that, too, was filled with men. Among this close massed crowd one could see here and there a rifle barrel glimmer in the light of the lamps. The men in the, square roared in a dull murmur and here and there a voice arose above the rest. One voice particularly arose bellowing above the mob. It was the voice of one who pressed close to the open window and bespoke the sheriff. ‘“ Where are they? Bring ’em out! Tell ‘7am. we want ’em!”’ ** Come on, Christofferson, give the swine up or we'll come in and get them!”’ The mob was back and reinforced. Ex- asperated at having its quarry whisked from its grasp, they had come in a fury of deter- mination to regain it. : ‘“‘ They ain’t here!” cried Christofferson. “ Farley’s over at Sheer—”’ Gaines was upon him with a strong hand across the sheriff’s mouth. ‘“‘ Shut up, you fool!” he cried. But the sheriff had gone too far. “« Sheerwater!”’ “« Sheerwater!” THE EVENT OF DEATH, 285 The cry arose, deep-throated from the heart of the mob, and was taken up in a clamorous singsong. With a roar the car was under way and the clatter of hoofs in- dicated that the mounted men were not slow to follow. Gaines sprang for the door, but Hazel was before him. “Let them go!” she cried. And she threw herself across the door. ‘“ You won’t leave here except to follow him!” Behind her faintly sounded the rumble of a started engine. Gaines tried with gentle firmness to urge the obstinate girl aside, but she gave way too late. When he rushed out into the night it was to see his car de- part with its load of vengeful rioters toward Sheerwater. “ Good God!” he cried. ed now!” “Will you follow him? Or must I go alone?” cried Hazel. And they were upon the porch of the courthouse, the men clutch- ing their rifles, the girl persuading them with fiery conviction. “We all go to get horses first!” snapped Gaines. It was Sheriff Christofferson who collected the horses, but it took time. The sky was gray with morning when they forgathered in the square to mount the animals. And the dozen who had followed the mob to the ranch joined them there so that they made a considerable company. Hazel, in a frenzy of eagerness to under- take the mission which she feared might now be all too late, sat a prancing pony across the line they would have taken and implored them. ‘““Tt’s too late now,” she cried, “ to talk! I’m riding for the mountains. Is there a dozen men who’ll ride with me? Are there two or three? Is there one?” But they murmured, looking toward Gaines. ‘“ Sheerwater!” he cried harshly, for in that moment his mind was made up. His man’s mind knew that to follow Cosgrove would be a waste of time inasmuch as he must now either be dead or successful in his quest. And at Sheerwater they would need men. And then, even as he gave his bluff de- “ We're strand- Gomichbooks (E@)