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

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

306 of life to him. Any one who stood out against him, or who didn’t see him as he wanted to appear to folks, that kind he never forgave. But he wa’n't content to leave ’em alone. He kept right after them. “°Twa’n’t really anything more than - that between us, to begin with. I saw him for what he was, and I didn’t hide my feelings. That didn’t suit him. He was terrible sensitive about other folks seeing him on their own level. ‘““"Way back, years ago, when I tried to run the mill—the one Will Davis owns to-day—lI begun to find that Nathan Swain was watching every move I made. He knew I hadn’t any capital, and that it would take close figuring for me to get by, and in my timber deals I kept running onto him. Sometimes I wouldn’t find out till afterward what he had been up to. But, you see, he wa’n’t content to keep it to himself; he always planned to let me know who I was fighting. ‘‘ For years he played with me like that —letting me get a little bit ahead—some- times almost letting me see my way clear. Then there he’d be. He got my mill away from me, and got me into debt, and after that he began on my farm. Acre by acre, and field by field, he’s kept right after me. It ain’t that I haven’t worked hard. I’ve worked, but I lost my sand. I come to be afraid, just knowing he was there; afraid even enough to suit him, I guess, But he couldn’t -forget. He had to keep hold of folks just so he could feel his power. “Tt had come to about the end of this year. He was going to sell me up. Now that farm’s been home to me. It’s belonged to us ’way back, field and woods and pas- ture-land, until there ain’t a tree on it or a foot of ground that don’t seem like my own flesh to me. He gave me warning time and again, but I suppose he hated to really come to the point, because, with nothing left to call my own, you see he’d have lost his hold on me. ‘“T was working here in the yard to-day, and I heard his voice in the study just saying a word or two. I got up my courage at last and thought I’d ask him for more time; I’d thought I’d beg him here, right before the minister; I thought he’d be ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ashamed to have it known how he was treating me. ‘* So I walked ’round to the front door. It was open, and I stepped into the hall. You see I’d counted on Mr. Grant’s being there, but when I come to the library threshold, there stood Nathan Swain alone. I didn’t know anything about why he’d come to the parsonage, or what had hap- pened since he’d come, but FE could see right off that he was terribly angry. His eyes were bloodshot, and his lips were work- ing. He didn’t wait for me to begin. He didn’t give me a chance to speak. He was glad enough to find somebody he could. take it out of.” Joel Benton twisted his hat in his earth- stained hands. “ Well, he didn’t show me any mercy. I wasn’t left in any doubt about its being the end for me. What little I had left was going to be taken. that minute to make me a pauper, and when he’d finished telling me so, he turned on his heel and walked back to the fireplace. He wa’n’t a bit afraid of me. J didn’t count | “It wa’n’t till then that I noticed I was holding the sickle in my hand.” Joel raised his head and sent a slow, steady glance around the room. “Twas just the accident of. my having brofight it that gave me the courage. But I want to tell you—and it’s the last thing Dll ever say—that I ain’t sorry for what I done—”’ At ten o’clock that same evening the Rev. Arthur Grant was pacing back and forth the length of the sitting-room. The last curious neighbor had gone home, and the study across the hall was free of its grim tenant. That door was locked and the key was in the minister’s pocket. Mrs. Grant came in from the kitchen, where she had been setting away the dishes after a late supper, which neither of them had touched. She straightened the position of a chair or two and untied her apron. “T don’t suppose either of us will sleep much, after such a day, but it’s nearly ten O ‘clock, ”” she said. “ You go up-stairs then, Alice,” he urged. “TH not be long. I want to think.” connie AOOLK It just suited him at wo (GLO)