The Argosy for May — page 179: what you’re looking at

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

366 ness transaction in New York will have to wait for a few weeks, my friend. Go along to your work now.” I walked toward the barn slowly and sadly. My brain was in a whirl. My heart was as heavy as lead. Could this be the twentieth century, and New York State? Was it really possible that this fellow could keep me here and make me do his bidding against my will? It certainly looked as if it were pos- sible; for, absurd as it seemed, here was I actually getting the ladder and paint- pot out of the barn, and starting in to do the work of a house-painter—I, who possessed the soul of an artist, and who had come to this place on a physician’s instructions to take a short, perfect rest. And yet, what else could I do? To make sure that I did not loaf, Farmer Snookins sent one of his boarhounds to watch me. The brute squatted on his haunches at the foot of the ladder, and growled so ominously every time I ceased slinging paint, that I worked more industriously than I had ever worked in my life. At noon my tyrannical host came to summon me to dinner. , ~The meal consisted of cold roast meat; green peas, and potatoes. The girl laid the table, and then joined us, as she had done at breakfast. I again noticed how beautiful she was; and the sad, despair- ing look on her pale face filled me with a determination to find some means of rescuing her and myself from our ex- traordinary captivity. — After we had finished eating, Farmer Snookins announced that he-intended to make another trip to the railroad-station that afternoon to bring back some more guests who had succumbed to the lure of his advertisement in the newspaper. My heart beat joyously at his words. I fancied I saw a chance to escape from this place while our captor was away. I glanced across the table at the girl, thinking that she also must perceive this opportunity; but, to my surprise, there was not the slightest trace of hope on her face. ‘“I wonder why she did not:try to get away yesterday while Farmer Snookins was at the depot bringing me here?” I asked myself. THE ARGOSY. answer tO my _ un- our tyrannical host As though in uttered thought, spoke again: “TI guess I’ll have to lock you up in the barn while I’m away,” he said. ‘You'd better not try to get out neither, for them dogs will be outside waitin’ for you. They'll be extra hungry,. and savage, too. I haven’t given them any- thing to eat this morning, so as to be sure that their appetites will be good.” He grinned at the look of discomfiture which I could not repress. I understood now why the girl had made no effort to escape during the absence of. our captor on the preceding day. True to his word, after Farmer Snookins had harnessed up the pair of wretched - looking horses to the dirty, dilapidated wagon, he put us inside the barn, and locked the door on the outside with a padlock. Then he ordered his six boarhounds to stand guard outside, and drove off, confident that we could not get away. E After he had gone, I looked at the girl, and the girl looked at me. De- spair was written on our faces. “This is a pretty state of affairs,” [I groaned. “It is terrible,” she replied, with a sob. ‘Do you mean to tell me that you have actually been kept a prisoner here for a week?’’ I inquired. “Yes. And I fear I shall remain here for the rest of my life,” she sobbed. ‘There doesn’t seem to be any chance of getting out of the clutches of this odious wretch.” “How did you come to select this place?” I asked. ‘“T was attracted by his advertisement in the paper—the same as you were, I suppose,” she answered. ‘I am a New York school-teacher, and I was looking for a nice, quiet place in which to spend a few weeks of my vacation. ‘According to the advertisement, Shady Bower Farm seemed to be just the kind of place I sought; and, in addition, the board was very cheap. I wrote for further particulars, and re- ceived such a nice, cordial letter in re- ply that I packed my trunks and came up here immediately. That wretch can certainly write nice letters.” mG DOO CO)