Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

24 fully two hours on it, crossing out, in- terlining and revising until at last I was fully satisfied. Then I wrote a private letter to For- sythe, telling him of the hint I had re- ceived about the missing Dick Mont- gomery and of my intention ta follow up the trail 1i possible until the truth was learned. Finally, my writing was finished and the big envelope sealed over its precious contents. My instructions were that when I had any important news and was with- in reach of the telegraph to use it freé- ly, but when there was no urgency in the matter, as in the present case, to rely upon the mails. But a big hiatus remained to be filled. It was fully a dozen miles to the nearest post office, and I had no horse to take me thither. Doubtless my pony Jack had made his way straight homeward and was at that mo- ment in the stable of his owner. The only horse belonging to Tom Auck- land had been killed, and consequently no animal could be obtained of him. Nothing seemed to remain except a foot journey to the post office unless I could hire some one to take my letter thither. I had sealed the missive which lay on the table before me, and clasping my hands on the back of my head, tipped my chair back while I smoked my cigar and turned over the problem in my mind. I presume I had sat thus for some ten or fifteen minutes, hearing as in a dream, the spitting raindrops against the window panes, and the occasional moaning of the wind, when I became conscious of the intrusion of some- thing upon my meditations, which, while intangible for the time, was yet too distinct to be laid to a figment of the imagination. At first, I attributed it to some move- ments of the sleepers up stairs, but the sounds of heavy breathing had been heard a considerable time, and when I snuffed the “thief” out of the candle \ , THE ARGOSY. and peered over its top at the skele- ton ladder, nothing was visible to cause any misgiving. All at once the truth flashed upon me. The noise came from the outside of the cabin. With a shiver of appre- hension I reflected how easy it would be for any one to pick me off with his Winchester from either of the two win- dows, for though a coarse muslin cur- tain was stretched across each, there were spaces at the bottom and sides through which one could locate me with unerring certainty. Concentrating all my faculties into that of listening, I heard through the soughing wind a slight noise at the window adjoining the door, and glanc- ing thither, noted that one lower corner of the muslin had curled slightly up- ward, leaving a clear triangular space of glass, some three or four inches in diameter at its widest part. The moment I observed this, I saw something else of a more startling na- ture: a shining object that reflected the dim light of the candle. A cold shiver ran down my spine, and for a few seconds I was transfixed by the conviction that I was looking into the muzzle of a Winchester rifle leveled at me, but the horrible sensa- tion vanished, when the gleaming thing was partially eclipsed for the hundredth part of a second, immediately after glowing forth with the same steady per- sistency as before. That which I saw was a human eye. that, while glaring steadily at me winked. This of itself could not be dangerous, but the chances were that a Winchester rifle was directly behind it, and my situation was anything but a “healthful ” one. And then we glared steadily at each other for a full minute, as if it were a contest of nerve and steadiness of vis- ion. Whoever the man was, he knew that I saw him and did not shrink from the fact. Suddenly yielding to a curious im- pulse, I dropped my feet on ‘se Aare, « eco