The Argosy, Vol. 90 No. 1 — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

a LITTLE BOSS teepee. In spite of the radiant gold of the sunshine poured over the undulant reaches of the land, Pete and Nick stooped to enter with misgivings. Nick stopped and turned to Fan. He had caught a glimpse of a still figure, bound Indian-fashion in a blanket, ready for burial. “Say, Miss Fan, I—-somehow this hyah business gives me the creeps!” he exclaimed. “Why, Nick?” Fan asked, her blue eyes on his, ‘Seems like we’re a sneakin” him under ground ’cause we've got something to do with his dying! I mean, that’s the way it ’d seem to folks that didn’t know differ- ent.” Fan answered very seriously. “Nick, I wouldn’t ask a man on the place to do anything underhanded. We know, you and Pete and Paleface and I, that this poor man came here yesterday, crazed and almost dead.. We all saw him. The only moment of sanity he had was when he begged to be buried without any one knowing about him. It’s little enough to do for him, isn’t it, Nick? Who knows what he wants to lie dead and buried with him? Lots of,yus have things we want to Jvide till they are forgotten.” Nick’s face was a study. But Fan read it easily. He extended a big hand toward her with a curiously grateful gesture. “ You're right, Miss Fan! You’ve helped a lot of us to bury something and let it lay forgotten! I get you!” ~ They laid the blanket-wrapped body in the deep grave that Nick and Pete had dug. Fan stood there in the sunshine with the tears running down her cheeks. Instinctively the two men lifted their tyes to hers after they had straightened from their grim task. — ‘“* Please, God, forget what he wants for- gotten. Just see his good points!” Fan spoke as if the Great Spirit of the universe were all about her in the sunlit air. Then she turned and started back toward the teepee. In silence, and with a care that expressed the tenderness that the girl and her brief, honest prayer had inspired, Pete and Nick covered the body of the unknown man, OF BIG BEN. 65 Before the teepee, her eyes fixed .as if space were filled with a dire spectacle, Pale- face stood. Fan’s noiseless step on the grass did not warn her. Fan watched her a moment, impressed by the look of horror imprinted on her gaunt face. Then she approached her and laid a soothing hand on her shoulder. “Indian mother, what ails you?” she asked. The inscrutable veil fell over Paleface’s countenance—the still, inexpressive Indian look. ‘““Do you—can you guess why he begged to be buried secretly?”’ Paleface did not answer. Her hand fum- bled in the folds of her dress. She handed Fan a small and very soiled bag. Fan opened the bag with her gloved fin- gers, repelled by its dirtiness, but urged by curiosity. She drew out a piece of paper, clean but crumpled, and she stared at it with puzzled eyes. CHAPTER VI. THE ATTACK IN THE DARK. FAN lifted her head quickly. A shout rang out from the direction of the cor- ral. She stepped away from the teepee and looked across the intervening space. “‘ Paleface, isn’t that Joe Phelps?” she asked, calling the long vision of the Indian to her assistance. Paleface grunted. Fan started across the prairie. Joe Phelps never came to the ranch-house unless some urgent need drove him. Fan caught the little pistol she wore from her belt. She fired three shots in rapid succession and then a single one after a moment’s interval. It was her signal. She saw Joe ride away from the ranch- house, where he had evidently gone to look for her. He caught sight of her and came toward her at breakneck speed. She ran to meet him. “ We’ve located ten of our critters on the Bonita range!” he called as he approachéd her. ‘ Sure?” she questioned quickly. ‘Sure. Two of the men seen ’em. Got oO Comicbooe S CO