The Argosy, Vol. 76, No. 3 — page 86: what you’re looking at

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

556 and floundered out of his chair. He shook a fat fist at his old friend and leaned across the table to shout: ‘You're a traitor, that’s what you are! You was on the rocks and I gave you a chance. That is what I get for it!” | CHAPTER XXV. AT THE HAND OF A FRIEND. BREMERTON’S gray eyes gleamed like polished steel. In just one second he was all energy and flaming resolu- tion. A bound landed him on his feet, and he threw himself half across the table to look into Deane’s face. ‘Yes, I’m a traitor,” he said be- tween his teeth. ‘“ The best thing I’ve done since I came to the Mariquita Mine is to turn against you. The Silas Deane of five years ago is dead; you're not even the shell of him. You're a knave, a thief, and a liar! Don’t you make a move, Deane. Sit down— there, at my desk!” A move of the right hand and Bremerton was looking over the sights of a revolver. Deane’s little eyes grew filmy, the purple died from his flabby cheeks and left them a sickly, pasty white. This mining king had never been a coward. He knew Bremerton, how- ever. That voice, that look, meant that Bremerton was no longer Bremerton, but Lee Reckless. The change from the quiet, self- restrained man to another whose will was his only law, and whose hand would stop at nothing, had been con- summated in a flash. Deane slumped heavily against the table. Slowly he raised a hand. ‘For Heaven’s sake, Bremerton,” he whispered hoarsely, “come out of that! I’m your old partner—remember Arapahoe Cafion? Remember them days when we—” “ Sit down!” | The command was sharp and metal- lic, like the snapping of a trigger. THE ARGOSY. Deane wheezed and rolled backward into a chair. The point of the revolver followed him. “Ts this what you got me out here for,’ he mumbled — “ to threaten and bullyrag me on my own property? ” “JT brought you out here, you miser- able excuse for the man I used to know, to force you to do one thing—just one thing—that you can look back on with- out regret when you take the Long Trail. Do you think my nerve will fail, and that I will hang back? Say!” Deane’s thick shoulders quivered. He crouched forward, his elbows on the desk, and spoke weakly over his shoulder : “No! In your present temper you’d —you'd do anything.” “That’s the right point to start on. Don’t get me wrong. And don’t you dare mention Arapahoe Cajfion! The words, in your mouth, are an insult to the Silas Deane who was my friend. You killed him, you bragging, murder- ous hound! For that alone you’re not fit to live!”’ “ Youw’re—you're crazy,” glingly from Deane. “T’ve worked for you here; I’ve risked my neck for you; and I’ve given back the money for which I sold my- self. Before I wash my hands of you, though, there’s one thing more.” Bremerton groped for the breast of his coat with his left hand. Not once did he take his gleaming eyes off Deane. “There’s a deed to a half-interest in the Mariquita Mine,’ Bremerton went on. “ You'll sign and convey a part of this property to the person who is entitled to all of it — Mariquita Mal- lory.”’ He flung the document down on the desk. This blow at the mine-owner’s most vulnerable point brought back his courage—for a moment. “Not if you kill me!” he muttered. “It’s my property, and you'll not rob me. <A deed like that wouldn’t hold good in law nohow! MHaven’t you sense enough to know that?” “Tt will hold good—this came gur- deed. COMicdoo S CO@