The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 104: what you’re looking at

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

100 “Thank you. You are so wise, Mr. Whipple, | wonder you have not ex- hausted the subject of heredity. I am -Tom’s sister; when there is a taint in the blood Fate is not kind enough to make any discrimination. What he is. I must be; if he would steal, so would [.” “It is not heredity that makes the criminal, but environment,” he an- swered calmly. “Then God pity the unfortunate who are thrown early upon the world! But you are wrong. It is a truth strong as Holy Writ that the sins of the father are visited upon the children. My father was a ? | “Please do not continue,” he inter- rupted. “ That is beside the matter.” ‘My father was a drunkard and died in State’s prison,” she went on with de- liberate emphasis; “he broke my mother’s heart; and when she died ”— Amy choked back the only sign of emo- tion she manifested in that cruel inter- view— when she died she commended Tom to my loving care and guidance. ‘Tom is like his father, Amy,’ my mother whispered as I held her in my arms; ‘oh, save hin from himself!’ Those were her last words, Mr. Whipple, and I shall be true to them. I shall save Tom from himself, and I shall save him from you!” Her small hands clenched with the strength of her determination. Her companion looked from the window to where Tom, bending over the barrels, was vigorously stirring the black muck from which was to be refined the yellow gold. There was a sharp pain at the man- ager’s heart, and Duty and Desire wcre again marshaling their forces in his soul. “ What do you intend to do?” asked Amy. “The sheriff is coming back again to- morrow,” he answered. “My brother is to be arrested? ” “ Your brother and Jeffries; Chombo, too, if I can find him.” “Not until to-morrow? ~ “T must take charge of vour brother and the foreman at once. When the sheriff comes I will turn them over to him.” Even then she did not falter, and C OUgle - THE ARGOSY. the manager's wonder continued to grow. “Why have you thought it necessary to come to me and tell me of your in- tentions? ”’ she inquired. “Because I want to prepare you for what is to come. I thought it but just.” “If you would be entirely just you would grant me a little time in which to prove Tom’s innocence.” He made a deprecatory gesture as though firmly convinced of her inability to do anything of the kind. “In the main, Mr. Whipple,” she ‘went on, “I think you try to do what is right. That much, at least, I give you credit for. But in this matter you are hasty. Why not wait until this detec- five comes to the mine and let him make the arrests? ” A switt hght rose in his eyes and as swiftly died out again. “IT must do it myself,” he answered. “My brother has been the victim of designing men,” she proceeded; “I am as sure of his innocence as you are of his guilt. .1 demand that you give me a week in which to prove that you would be doing a great wrong to turn Tom over-to the sheriff.” He thought a moment, and then got up from the chair. “Return me that pocketbook,” said he, “ and I will send word to the sheriff not to come here until Monday after- noon. It is with this understanding, however, that 1f you are convinced of Tom’s guilt mstead of mnocence you will allow me to do as my duty die- tates.” “Everything will be as it is now until Monday afternoon? ” c¢ Yes.” “Very well.” She returned the pocketbook to him, and he slipped it into the breast of his coat, strode out of the office, mounted the horse at the door, and rode slowly back to Gonzales’ corral. After removing the bridle, saddle, and saddle-blanket, he turned the horse loose and sat for a few minutes in the shade of the stockade, smoking and thinking. Drawing the wallet from his pocket, he opened it and searched with thum) and finger among the papers it con- GORMIGOOO (COL