The Argosy, Vol. XXIV No. 2 — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

— ee ee ee oe THE SINGING TEACHER. Ea t which rested upon it. ‘Two or three men were seated about the place, but as Jim entered they rose. . ‘(What's the matter, Jim ?’’ asked one of them. ‘‘ Singin’ teacher’s a detective.’’ . Involuntarily the hands of the moonshiners went to their pistol belts. ‘‘ Boys,’’ coutinued Jim after a brief pause. “‘I want you to git, ’case the detective’s purty close here, an’ he’s got a guide what knows the trail.”’ ‘‘ Narry a git,’’ said one. ‘‘ Who’s the guide?”’ “That’s one thing I ain’t a tellin’,’’ said Jim, ‘‘ but I said git, an’ git ye | shall. Go by the Fork trail so’s you won’t meet him, d’ye understand ?””’ Jim Turpin was usually understood when he spoke. ‘“‘ Pinter,’? he continued, turning to one of the men, ‘‘ I’m gwine to leave everything to you, ’case I know you’ll treat me fair and squar, not sayin’ - anythin’ agin the rest of ye. Git everythin’ out’n here afore tomorrow night. I’m a gwine back here to meet the detective, an’ gin up.”’ *f What !’ exclaimed Pinter. ‘‘ What in the world are you a gwine to do thet for ?”’ ‘‘ Bor reasons I ain’t a tellin’,’’ replied Jim, as he turned and walked away through the darkness again. Hurrying off by the route over which he came, Jim reached the cliff ‘where the torch was still burning, and waited for the return of Jo and Wilkes. When they reached the top of the rocks, Jim stepped out from the darkness and confronted them. Quick asa flash Wilkes covered him with a revolver. “T gin up,’’ said Jim, ‘an’ I want you to take me right: along tonight. Put up your gun ; when I gin up, I gin up. An’, Jo,’’ he continued, turning to the girl, ‘‘ don’t you cry; I hear’n it all, an’ I know it ain’t no fault o’ your’n. Hit mout ha’ been a wrong way to make it, Jo, but I been a stillin’ a long time, an’ a puttin’ by, an’ a puttin’ by, till I got a right smart chance o’ gold laid away, a hopin’—a hopin’ that some day “Tm ready, mister,’? he broke off, suddenly turning toward Wilkes. Then abruptly snatching the torch from its crevice, he strode up the ridge, followed by Jo and thc singing teacher. The train which bore Jim Turpin a prisoner to Atlanta, bore Jo Randall to the same place to become the wife of his rival and captor, Lester Wilkes. *K ok *K *K Jim Turpin had completed his twelve months term in Fulton County jail. He had been réleased on Saturday, and had been spending Sunday in seeing ~ the city before his departure for the hills again. Jim had never seen or heard of Jo since they had parted on arriving in the city more than a year before. But now as he wandered through the many streets of the Gate City, he was watching every door and every window on either side of the street in a vague, sort of way, yet he was not quite sure that he wanted to see Jo. It was growing late in the afternoon ; already the high electric lights were aglow, and Jim began to think of returning from his walk. He had turned about, and was walking along a narrow street which was lined by two rows of dingy looking houses. His chin lay against his breast, and he had dropped into a not altogether pleasant reverie. (1) Connicboooks. co I