The Argosy for May — page 137: what you’re looking at

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

324 months or years of suffering welcomes such knowledge as the forerunner of a blessed relief. But two young men, with everything to live for, could hardly be expected to look upon the prospect with equanimity. Yet never in all the time that has passed since then, during which I have practised my profession, have I seen any one face death with the cool, almost inso- lent courage of Jim Balover. ‘“T hope, as long as they are going to shoot us, they will shoot us together,” he remarked. ‘‘ Even in death I suppose a fellow likes company.”’ ‘“T can’t see that it makes any differ- ence,” I rejoined. ‘“ It will be over in a minute. These fellows don’t leave any blanks, as they do in time of war in our army when they shoot a man. Every- body shoots to kill. One little order, and it’s all over.” ‘It wouldn’t be so bad,”’ he went on, “if it wasn’t for the two girls. I sup- pose, of course, Isobel is safe—some- where—but it’s tough going and leaving her when I know she loves me.”’ “Tt is. I feel the same way.” ‘You? Are you in love? Is it Kate?” “Yes,” I answered, with a sigh. ‘It is Kate, and she seems to love me. I came after reading your letter, and we bade each other a fond good-by. On her part it was almost a farewell, because she feared some disaster. But I was going to do wonders. Kick up a shindy with the consul, give old Don Manuel back his money and win his friendship, and have you out of here in no time. What have I done? Lost Don Manuel’s money, got myself cut up into beefsteaks, and here I am now waiting to be shot like a mad dog. Kate was right. I’ve done nothing but mess everything since I tried to take Isobel to you.” “Oh, don’t blame yourself for that. It was my fault. In the first place, I had no business to ask you to help me. And I should have told you about Kate.” “Tm glad you didn’t. I am sorry you have not seen Isobel, but the kiss Kate gave me when I came away is wor.h a great deal.” “Tt isn’t worth getting shot for.” ‘“ Well—there is no use arguing about that. If we could only—” “Well, we can’t. I’ve tried every- THE ARGOSY. thing. I’ve threatened them with men- of-war. I’ve tried to bribe them with all the money my uncle is worth. I’ve prom- ised them good positions in the States. I’ve done everything. The trouble is, we are too prominent. If we were obscure, no-account devils, we might get out. As it is—bang/” Cheerful talk in a damp, dark cell. But our spirits were not quite as lively as our talk. Our minds were keyed up to the breaking-point, and if, in the attempt to appear calm, we slopped over some- times, it could hardly be called unnat- ural. That day passed wearily. [Evidently they were in no hurry to finish their job. There was no gloating over us, no abusive language. No one came near us at all except to bring what they called food. - We slept but little that night. ‘ Fraser,” said Balover as we lay side by side on the straw, “ I’ve got a peculiar feeling that you are going.to get out of this and I am not. I don’t know what makes me feel that way. But I do. And I want you to promise me something.” “ll premise anything,” I told him. “It is easy to promise when you know you can’t fulfil. I fail to see any reason for such an idea as you have. If you are shot, of course [’ll be.”’ “Well, I don’t know. TI hope I’m right. Anyway, if you do escape by any miracle, hunt till you find Isobel. Tell her that her name was the last word on my lips. And assure her of my love.” “Tl do that—but if I have a chance to do it, you will yourself.” _We spent the night mostly in talking in this way, and were worn out when morning came. While we were eating our breakfast a cloud came over the grating and a piece of paper dropped to the floor. ‘Ah, a friend has found us out!” ex- claimed Balover. He sprang forward and picked up the paper. As he opened it I saw in the dim light that his face turned paler. “What is it?” I asked. ‘“ Not a message from a friend,” he re- plied. : I took the paper. It was printed in Spanish, and was a general order, to be scattered or posted in various places. MICLOOO© (Cc S (C@)