Argosy, Vol. 123, No. 1 — page 86: what you’re looking at

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

76 _ Then: “ Take care of yourself,” he said, and abruptly turned on his heel. CHAPTER XIV. THE GREAT HUNGER. T was the crossing of the Rubicon for Garth. Grant that it was a small de- ception which he had practised upon Ty- son in the beginning; the enthusiasm of the latter had made it a thing of moment. He had more than met Garth half-way. He was playing his game fair and square and hard. And Garth winced at the thought. He tried to console himself. what could he tell Tyson? That he was in love with his sister? He had only seen her once, and Tyson would think him mad. Better let the whole matter ride, and if Tyson ever found out—well, he would risk the consequences. : He paused at the door, and spoke to Rodriguez on the way out. ‘That fellow back there—E] Oro, you call him,” he said. ‘‘ Don’t let him work himself to death. I’m interested in him.” And Rodriguez replied with a flash “of teeth. ow the’ whistle shrieked, soon after, the end of that day, and while the rest of the day shift hurried off from the cement house, Tyson sank on the heap of empty sacks beside the boss, Rodriguez. He remained there beside the half-breed partly because he wished to talk to Rodri- guez, more largely because his aching legs for the moment refused to carry him farther. . Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday had seen Tyson eating a single meal of bread and milk, but vegetarians to the contrary, there is no doubt that working man is a After all, carnivorous animal; and while Tyson was not actually famished, he was sadly weak- ened—visions of a barbecue he had once attended haunted him. | Even that meager diet had consumed his money. There remained to him at the end of Wednesday a single twenty-five cent piece, and this he reserved until Friday. Thursday was his day of famine. Friday nothing but water. THE ARGOSY. he ate bread and milk—a drop of water on the desert. Now this was the last day. Before noon of Saturday he would have his week’s pay—incredible wealth! And the crisis would be passed. To the test Tyson brought, to be sure, a strong and well-trained body, and nerves of steel; but there is a vital difference be- tween the most strenuous athletic activity and the spiritless and monotonous drain of manual labor. He who has not had to swing a pick or wield a sledge-hammer for eight or ten hours a day cannot understand the bitterness of the curse by which Adam was compelled to earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. The air in the cement house was in it- self a sufficient trial. The skin of his fin- gers, softened by sweat and filed away by the rough sacking, was soon worn to the flesh. It was painful to grip the sacks, and once gripped, being loosely filled, they evaded one’s strength. It was like attempting to lift the body of a man who lies limp. And on the jour- ney across the rough ‘boards of the floor- ing, the heavy hand-truck jerked and twisted and tugged at his arms and jolted him light-headed and settled a peculiar nausea in the pit of his stomach. Yet he managed. to fight his way through the days, calling more and more heavily on his reserve strength of nerve and muscle. And so he came. to the last grim day of famine. Now, there is nothing ‘appalling in the thought of a two days’ fast; men have been known to live for forty days, partaking of But there is a vast difference between idle fasting and working fasting. Any automobile will coast down hill, but it takes a good engine to tug up a erade. Tyson was pulling up a grade, and a stiff one. The loss of a single meal means a good deal to a laborer. It makes his knees buckle and puts a mist before his eyes. The loss of two meals in a single day is enough to lay out the most powerful. It is no wonder that Tyson, after five days of agony, and one of thém a day of no nourishment, felt his head sing, and be- gan to see visions. Two things sustainee comiclboool C@