Argosy, Vol. 123, No. 1 — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

68 fingers were tightening. The edges of it were uncomfortably jagged. But for some reason Tyson knew at once that he would have to come closer to the girl. He swept the stream with a glance. A little above him the course of the. water—which was everywhere comparative- ly shallow—was broken by stones which projected well above the surface. They were a risky distance apart, but a crossing might be managed. “T’m coming over for a chat,” said Ty- son, and moved over opposite the stones. ‘“Vow'll stay where you. are,” responded the girl confidently. “Are you sure?’’ 4 Yes.” ‘What makes you so sure?”’ 6“ This. 9? She tossed up the stone and caught it again, deftly. “You think I’m afraid of that?” ‘“ All. men are cowards,” she announced with conviction. She stood now with her arms akimbo and surveyed him with an insolently measuring glance. “Who told you that?” he asked. ‘Padre Miguel,” she answered. “He is a fool!’’ said Tyson. “A fool!’ she echoed, more in wonder than in anger. And then, shrugging her shoulders: “ But you know he cannot hear you.” ‘“T suppose it would be dangerous if he did?” “Took at that branch.” She raised her arm, the ragged sleeve fell back to the shoulder. “ Well?” | “He would wither you like that—with a word!” “Ah!” murmured Tyson, smiling once more. . *“ Are you mocking me again?” — “No, I’m mocking Padre Miguel.” “Do you know what comes to men who mock the padre?” * Tell me.” “ They are kept another hundred years in purgatory, and red fire is poured down their throats every day.” She made a grimace. THE ARGOSY. “Get your stone neat said Tyson, “for I’m coming.” And instantly he was on the way. CHAPTER XI. THE WISDOM OF THE PADRE. [7 was not altogether a simple task, for the stones were wet, and the least mis- judgment of distance would send Tyson and his single suit of clothes headlong into the water and rolling along in the sharp cur- rent; but each spring he made was true to the fraction of an inch. Once, indeed, he - Slipped and staggered, but recovered him- self with the address of a bird fluttered by an unexpected gust of wind. A second later he was safely upon the farther bank, and looked up to her. She had retreated as swiftly as he came, and now she stood at the edge of the little clearing, her stone poised strongly above her shoulder, and her eyes afire with a stern light. “Tf all men are the. cowards,” laughed Tyson, panting, ‘‘ why are you afraid?” ‘“‘ Afraid?” she echoed ‘“T’m never afraid.” | “Then why do you run away?” - “ Why do you dodge a snake?” she coun- tered. ‘Ah, then men are snakes! The good Padre Miguel has told you this, as well?” oe Yes. ? “But how the deuce am I to talk with you if you stand over there with that in- fernal stone leveled at my head all the _ time?” he asked, with a touch of irritation. “T have not asked you to talk to me,” she said. ‘And I suppose that’s the very reason I want to.” Perhaps it was the heat of the sun, which was gradually increasing, or it may have been the continual threat of the poised stone. At any rate, Tyson dropped his hand into a pocket to bring out a hand- kerchief and wipe his forehead, but what the hand brought forth was the ominous yellow-and-black necktie. It dangled at full length from his fingers, flashing and twisting like a live thing in the sun. Ccomiclboool< C©