Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 2 — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

a. Ag we KOO 4 > io, | yw 1. “od 288 ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, Bert, he cautiously walked backward to- ward the bed. But it was upon the girl that Bert gazed, numbed by a sudden sweep of horror. She lay, as in death, across the man’s arms, her head fallen backward as if disjointed at her white throat, her arms swinging inertly from her shoulders, her face almost as white as the gown that showed through the rents in her kimono. Bert passed a trem- ulous shand across his suddenly clammy brow. It was Ruth—Ruth! | When the man reached the bed, he de- posited upon it his precious burden, straightened himself; then, and advancing toward the staring young man who stood in the doorway: “ Kid,” he said softly, his chest heaving with labored breaths, “I don’t know what th’ hell you’re doin’ here, but—beat it!” Bert did not move. Slowly comprehen- sion of the strange scene came to him. Ruth must have been alone in the house, and this man— “Well, kid,” warned Paprika, stepping nearer, n are you goin’ to beat it?” Bert pointed a shaking finger toward the still form on the bed. “You’ve killed her!” he said huskily. “ You’ve—” | Paprika laughed. ‘ Killed her—nothin’. She ain’t only fainted. She'll come around in a minute. Now you beat it, kid, or—” Bert hesitated no longer. With bewil- dering suddenness he leaped forward, send- ing his fist crashing full into the man’s un- protected face. With a roar of surprise and pain, Paprika staggered back; crashed heavily into the dresser that stood behind him. And there, with his back to the bu- reau, he held his ground as Bert rained blow after blow into his bloody face. For a while he made scarcely an effort to fight back, so dazed was he by the un- expectedness of Bert’s attack. He crouched low, content to throw aside as many as he could of Bert’s thick-falling blows, until he realized that the power behind them was slowly diminishing then he flung himself aside. Bert circled about him, resting a moment from his exertions, waiting for an opening for a fresh attack. ‘ Kid,” said Paprika, passing his tongue across his bloody lips, “you've give me th’ best you got, an’ it wasn’t good enough. God help you now, kid.” _ He charged then, like a wounded bull; and, nimble as Bert was, he could not elude the arms that reached out to grasp him. He struck upward, with all the power of his arm and shoulder, the blow striking Paprika fairly upon the jaw; but Paprika did not fall. . “That’s your last one, kid,” said Pap- rika, shaking his head to.clear it. ‘“‘ Now it’s my turn.” With the sickening realization that he had, indeed, given vainly of his best, Bert tore at the encircling arms that snaked about his ribs. “He flailed useless blows against Paprika’s sides; but the powerful arms sank deeper and deeper into his flesh, and he felt himself being slowly lifted. He fell, the crushing weight of Paprika on top of him, the relentless arms holding him in a viselike grip. He did not struggle now. He knew how unavailing were his efforts; and he needed all the strength that he could summon, to withstand the pressure of those constricting arms and the chin that bored its way into his chest. As he lay there, fighting with sheer will against the fate that seemed inevitable, he could see, through the murky haze that was gathering before his eyes, the bed upon which Ruth lay. And even as he looked at her, she opened her eyes—wide, wonder- ing eyes that soon took on a film of herror as wakefulness and comprehension came to her. He thought he saw his name upon her lips; he tried to speak to her, to call her name; but the mantle of darkness that was closing in upon him was shutting him out from the world. He fought now solely against that enveloping blackness. As long as his vision Could pierce that swirling chaos of murk, he could hold on to life—could fight—could fight— He could no longer see Ruth nor the bed, nor the chair that stood nearer. No lon- ger could he hear the heavy breathing of the man who was on top of him, crushing the life from his body. He must hold on a bit longer—must not give way—not give way— GA COMIC OOOKS.COM ee - “be