Argosy, Vol. 123, No. 1 — page 85: what you’re looking at

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

PRIDE OF TYSON. res) monious fashion. But Tyson reeled back a step as he came to a halt. He stared at Garth with wide, unseeing eyes, as if he were frightened. ‘“What’s this mean, Tyson?” big man curtly. “Don’t you see?” and Tyson smiled wan through the dust on his face, while the sweat from his forehead slowly furrowed the gray. ‘ Work! Work, man! And I’m doing as much as the next man. Ask the boss, over there. Ask Rodriguez.” “ As much as the next, and a little more, Tyson,” growled Garth. ‘“ Let me be alone with him, will you, Harris?”’ Harris obediently turned away. He was glad enough to get over to the side door and draw down deep breaths of the fresh air and brush the fine gray silt from his clothes. He was not a particularly soit- handed man, but the depths of the foulest mine were nothing compared with this in- -ferno of sharp-scented dust and heat pour- ing down from the iron roof. It was so hot, indeed, that it dried perspiration al- most as soon as it started, and left the skin dry and salty. “Too much work, Tyson,” continued Garth, as soon as they were alone. “ You look as if you need the doctor’s attention now.” asked the ‘““ Nonsense,” said Tyson calmly, and looked the other in the eye. ‘“ I’m perfect- ly all right.” j ‘Enjoying yourself, eh?” suggested Garth grimly. “Ym carrying my end of the load—the hardest load I can find at the dam. Yes, I’m enjoying it!” ‘Why the devil do you wabble on your feet, then? Come over here and sit down, man; you look positively ghastly.” “It’s the dust on my face,” said Tyson coolly. ‘“* Also, if I knock off work I’ll have my wages docked and maybe get fired. If I’m fired that means I’ve broken my con- tract.” ‘Damn the contract,” burst out Garth. His glance sharpened. ‘Tyson, when did you last eat?” “Eh?” The other looked about him vaguely: ‘‘ Why, at noon.” “What did you have?” _ “ Er—sandwiches. Cold ham = sand- wiches and hot coffee at the restaurant over there, with Mex soup to start on and half a pie to wind up.’ He lied smoothly, smiling upon Garth. ‘“But why do you ask?” » - “ Because you look half starved.” ‘“ Merely pring down to weight. ways get lean.” ‘“ Tyson, you’re lying like a villain. Con- found it, man, you’ll do yourself a perma- nent harm if you aren’t careful!”’ ‘Listen to me,” said Tyson gravely. “Tf I can’t prove that I can do a man’s work with my hands, I’ll never be able to look at myself in a mirror after this. If I Al- have to admit that I’m a soft-muscled par- lor athlete with a yellow heart, I’ll hate myself the rest of my days. Why, Garth, if you were in my place you know you’d go through with the game in spite of hell!” “Big Ed Garth looked at Tyson thought- fully. There was more metal in the man than he had dreamed. This was sufficient- ly foolish, but there was something fine at we bottom of it. ‘As a matter of fact,” admitted Tent ‘what keeps me going is the thought that you'd never buckle on a job like this.” There it was again. The fellow had set up Garth as a sort of model—almost an ideal. For the second time a great desire welled up in Garth to make a clean breast of the whole affair—to tell Tyson, man to man, the underlying purpose for which he had been lured out to the Chiluah—to ad- mit that he was serving no more important purpose than bait in a trap, as far as Garth was concerned. And then Tyson was saying: “ I’ve been writing to Margaret and telling her that I've taken everything that comes my way. Do you think I could face her if she came out here and found that I’d just quit? Eh?” Garth moiereced his dry lips. “ She’s coming?” he asked sharply. ‘““T don’t know. Her last letter sounded a good deal as if she’d take the next train. She’s lonely.” For another moment Garth paused and fought temptation. cComiclboool C@