Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

080 sidered every word of it. He answered that he thought honest pride a good thing. —_— CHAPTER XVI. TEMPTATIONS. ULES headed for home immediately upon J the departure of the train. He saw nothing of Monday, nothing of the jail- er, nothing or nobody to suggest that the Jaw took any interest in him. Upon reach- ing home, he put up the bay roadster and then wandered into the woods. He forgot all about supper, but returned to the house soon after ten o’clock and went straight to bed. He was up and at work bright and early next morning; but there was that in his eye which warned Lem Stalvart and Tom Skellog that the wise thing for them to do was to ignore his reserved manner and heavy silence. Skellog, who now knew about the run- away of Jeff and Dora, and about the boot- legginge—but nothing about the theft of money—was of the opinion that Dora Har- low had been Jules’s girl. “It would sure make a saint sore, let alone a Frenchman, to go rip a man outer jail an’ then have him run off with yer own girl,” he said. : Whatever Lem's thoughts were on the subject of Jules and the affairs of Jules’s heart, he said nothing downright. All his talk with Tom on the subject rambled wide of the mark. Marcel Griifou had been gone five days when Lem came upon Jules one night, after the milking, seated on a big bowlder above the stream. Lem sat down, too, and hit his pipe. Jules made no sign of being aware of the other’s presence. After smoking for a minute, Lem said: “ Jules, I’m without a son now. I’m without son nor daughter.” “Ys zat so?” returned Jules in a tired voice. ‘‘ When did you receive the sad news of Jeff’s decease?” “ He is dead as my son. You know what T mean. <A bootlegger an’ a low thief! He may live sixty years—but he’s dead to me.” ‘“You sound like God Almighty—or like your idea of Him. But your idea is wrong. Jeff is a fool, but ’e is your son.” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, After a considerable silence, Lem said: “You've got a nasty way of sayin’ things, Jules—but ye're honest. A man who didn’t know ye's well as I do ’d maybe git riled— but I knaw yer heart. You think right an’ act right, and ye’re a true friend. I like you, Jules. Always have, from the very first. De'ye mind yer first meetin’ with Jeff, when he tried to scrunch yer hand, an’ you give him the laugh? That was an old trick of his, showin’ off his strength. He was always showin’ off. You're the first man he ever gripped that didn’t holler ‘enough.’ But that ain’t what I follered ye out licre to say, Jules. I come to say how I'll be proud to make a son and heir -Of vou.” “You are very kind,” said Jules calmly. “You do me a great honor~but I am con- tent as I am, as your friend and ’ired man, to give honest work for honest wages. I ‘ave no ambition to step into the shoes of zat poor, mad, cowardly fool, Jeff. And also, I ’ave already a fazzer. I am al- ready a son and heir.” ‘“An heir? Is your father rich?” ‘Yes, ’e was rich—in courage, in good taste, in Kindness, in great traditions, in honesty, in beautiful dreams. Pierre Henri St. Simon d’Ance was a rich man—zat poor fisherman. But now ’e is dead.” ‘“ T have money and land; and I like you, Jules; and you'd still be yer father’s son, even if you took my name. I don’t ask ye to deny ver own bload.”’ ‘You are very kind—but it is impos- sibie. Jeff is your son.” “You sav yerself he’s a coward and a fool!” ‘True: and I refuse ’is birt-right, or any part of it.” “Then ye’re a fool yerself!” Lem returned to the house in a bad. temper. it was in the brief lull of field work be- tween the hauling of the last load of hay and the cutting of the first swath of oats, that a letter arrived for Jules, postmarked Montreal, It was from Jeff. DEAR JULEs: You will be sirprised to hear from me I guess. IJ write to you insted of to the Old Man because I guess Im about as pepular with him right now as a skunk at a wedding. The EO DOO CO