The Argosy, Vol. 90 No. 1 — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

48 we fixed up a few things he’d need going to Queen City.” McRae observed her face upturned to the ranchman. Her shining eyes reflected the lamp-light. Her mouth melted allur- ingly. With a grim smile, the district at- torney recognized the mother-bird ruse. With every flash of her eyes she was telling that man she would be very easy to get; she was beautifully dressed, too, with her green necklace resting in the hollow of her breast. Robertson was an easier dupe than the district attorney had been. His small, evil eyes, set about with rolls of fat, gleamed with appreciation. ‘They found out that dimple, like the master modeler’s finger- print, which showed. above the round neck of her frock. They did not turn toward the prisoner; and the other men had left the cabin. McRae was sure there was contraband in the bundle, and that she would not let Robertson find it. But he knew, also, that the sheriff, who was momentarily expected now, would get hold of it. Her cheeks glowed crimson; her forehead was intensely white. The sodden, overfed man asked her some question, and she threw him a look from her veiled eyes that made him bend to- ward her, flushed and smiling foolishly. She did not wince from having that face so near hers; but the rays of the one tiny lamp fell on her breast, and McRae saw it heave suddenly as she repressed a sob. Robertson was shaking out a blue yarn sock. McRae heard a slight noise behind him ~ where Lord sat tied into the chair. He turned. The ropes had been cut through. Mc- Rae knew in a moment that Hilairy had given Lord a knife when she bent. over him. But Robertson did not guess. ‘“‘He’s chawed them ropes; look at him!” he cried as Lord got to his feet. “‘ Ketch him; hold him!” With a sweep of his arm—the one which he had said was terribly shattered—Lord overbalanced a man who had approached the cabin door. At that the crowd of men and boys scat- THE ARGOSY. tered before him. He leaped down the three steps and was away. Robertson ran out of the kitchen, shout- ing: ‘“* Head him off! Stop him!” The district attorney followed. He did not know what he would do. But outside he became one of a crowd that pursued the bandit. And Lord had not yet got away. He was dodging around the barn in the dark. A white-and-yellow dog was leaping at him with loud and excited barking. “Don’t shoot to kill!” roared Robert- son. “ Wound him! For God’s sake, don’t kill him!” ““ There’s no reward if he’s killed,” said a boy of sixteen, who seemed to be Rob- ertson’s son. “ Hit him in the shoulder or the leg. Don’t kill him.” The bandit made toward the fence that divided the barn-yard from a timbered pas- ture that offered dark cover. McRae had no purpose to help him. But suddenly an impulse possessed him. It was like a divine inspiration. He had no time to question it. He leaped forward, throwing up both hands, just as Lord mounted the fence and Robértson leveled a revolver his way. There was a report from the gun, The bullet struck the district atorney on the shoulder, plowed along for two or three inches, and glanced away. McRae fell on his face close to the corral. “* He’s killed! He’s dead! Robertson shot the district attorney!” shouted a voice. And another, who had not seen anything clearly, began to shout: ~ “ Murder! Murder!” So there was great confusion, and the prisoner was forgotten. McRae lifted himself on his uninjured elbow. “Ym not hurt to speak of; just a scratch,” he called into the crowd about him. Then the pursuers remembered Rawley Lord. They gave an impromptu hunting cry, like Apache Indians, and vaulted over the fence into the pasture where the ever- greens grew. But Robertson remained. Of a pessi- mistic disposition, he had instantly aban- oO Comicbooe S CO