The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 205: what you’re looking at

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

PAY-DAY IN PALAOR, changing my mind. I like you, Tom, far too much to be unkind, and it’s not fair to cripple you when you are just starting to make your own way, No good ever comes of marriages like that.” Tom denied this strenuously, “but desisted when Edith closed the argu- ment by changing the subject abruptly, “IT want you to do a favor for me, Tom—a great, big favor. I would not ask you, but I know I can depend upon your doing it just the way I want. You know those Santos people?” ‘Tom nodded an affirmative. He wondered what was coming. Surely that little half-breed monkey, Julian, hadn’t presumed to annoy the Ameri- can girl with his pretensions? Marker. had dismissed Basilio’s gossip as idle village chatter. But he made up his mind he would hammer a sense of de- cency into the yellow youth’s hide. “ Of course, it’s absurd, Tom. But the more you do for these people the more impossible they seem to get. To please the Santos children I went out with them one day to their hacienda. And ever since Pablo, the youngest child, has been bringing to school the most ridiculous notes from his brother Julian, who is old enough to know better. “T have lectured Pablo and refused to take the notes, but that seems only to have made matters worse. ‘To-day Julian was waiting outside as I left the school, and it -was as much as lL could do to get rid of him without a scene. I want you to talk to him, but —only to talk to him, mind!” Tom had clenched his fist. The mestizo’s conduct was insufferable. The girl saw his rising anger and laughed in a.spirit of mischief. She saw she would have to bind “her big boy ” only to talk to Julian. And she did. Reluctantly, Tom promised. “And ’’—as they left the lake to return to the bungalow—“ this night next week, dear?” “This night of next week, Tom, I'll give you your answer.’ Until then 675 you must stay away. I must think very hard, dear. There is Dick and there is you. I can’t hurt either of you, and I’ve got to ask myself, Tom, do I love you. If you’re very, very good, sir; I will ask myself that ques- tion; and [’ll try to give you the an- swer you seem to want—if you do want it so very, very badly. Do you?” She had taken his hands again and was holding him away from her. Tom, being human and very much in love, almost broke down the fragile barrier, — She was laughing again, in the seventh heaven of girlish delight; and he was protesting his love with a wealth of exuberance, if little elo- quence, She stopped him with a per- emptory gesture, ran a little way from him, and left him with this promise: “ Meet me here this night week. Let me go home now by myself, and please don't try to see me for a whole week. Will that be very hard? ” She laughed and threw him a rose she had been wearing over her heart. “Tom dear ”’—how prettily she ac- cented the adjective !—“ I am going to ask myself, really and truly, ao” love you.’ She was gone. Marker felt himself very red, very hot, very happy. Was there ever such a girl? he asked himself as he rolled and lighted a cigarette and then strode hopefully up the winding path on his way home to his own bungalow. The night wind whistling by him shook the broad fronds of a banana- tree. Marker was too happy, too in- tent upon his own thoughts to see the figure which crouched behind the sheltering leaves. As his footsteps died away the leaves were parted, a young half-breed AN emerged and shook a thin, yellow hand: in the direction taken by the lieutenant: “So,” said Julian, son of the planter Santos, “it is this American dog who would steal from me the ex- quisite heart of my soul. ’Susmarie, no!”’ COMicdoo S CO@