Argosy, Vol. 123, No. 2 — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

238 ‘Exactly. He amuses her. And why does she like Padre Miguel?” “JT dunno. Maybe because he amuses her, too.” ‘“‘ And why, Kennedy, does she like you?” ‘“‘ Because I—look here, m’boy—”’ “ Because you amuse her, eh? Tut, tut, Kennedy, do you really dream that she takes you seriously ?” The cigarette, flicked. from the fingers of Kennedy and thrown through the window, described, in the dark of the eve- ning, a shining arc. “You're quite right in oalling it a game with her,” went on Tyson. “It’s all a game. You’re one card—perhaps I’m an- other—she plays them as she sees fit. We amuse her—that’s all.” Kennedy rose to his full height, his hands behind him. 7 “One week from. to- day," he said, ‘‘ we get married.” Tyson smiled. ‘“‘T said a week from to-day,” in a rising voice. The smile of Tyson persisted. “By God!” muttered the gambler. “What d’you know?” It was that continual smile which mad- dened him. He reached over, grasped the shoulder of Tyson with an iron hand, and dragged him to his feet facing the. dying light from the window. Perhaps Tyson had never before been touched in that manner, and now his fingers twitched to be at the throat of the tall man. ‘“T know,” he said—and he continued to smile straight in the face of the gambler— “that we’re both in the pack. She may draw you—she may not.” “ And you’fe in the game?” “To stay, my friend!” “You damned—rustler!” said Kennedy through his teeth, and struck Tyson across the face with his open hand. The blow, in itself, was nothing, but it unbalanced and sent Tyson staggering back against the wall. There he stood for an instant, crouching a little, spreading his hands against the wall behind him to give impetus to his attack. As for Kennedy, he was bolt-erect, a devil in his face, and his right hand clutching at a hip pocket. THE ARGOSY. Then—a knock at the door and a shrill voice: “ Oh, Mr. Tyson, are ye there?” CHAPTER XX. ROULETTE. OME in,” called Tyson. Mrs. Irene Casey stood. in the doorway. “‘ Mr. Kennedy,” she cried, ‘am J intrudin’?” ‘‘] think our business can wait. It will even be better for waiting, eh, Kennedy?” The hungry eye of the gambler was still measuring the other from head to foot, as if he had not yet settled on a vital place. ‘* Maybe it will,” he growled. “After all,” said Tyson, “it will only take a moment -to settle it.” “Ym glad you see that,” nodded Ken- nedy, and he passed the tip of his. tongue across his lips. ‘“ Kertmedy,” said Mrs. Casey, “is it diviltry ye’re up to?” | “Tut, tut! Nota bit,” broke in Tyson. ‘It’s only the matter of a small debt which I owe Kennedy, and he’s pressing me to pay it. Ax revoir, sir.” The door closed heavily behind the gambler, and Mrs. Casey turned a thought- ful glance from it to Tyson. With all his soul he was longing to be at Kennedy, but he wore the quietest of smiles. ‘You men,” moralized Mrs. Casey, ‘are like dogs that growl when you pass. My man Casey was like that—God rest him! Fightin’ always, day and night. He’d rather have fought once than drunk red-eye twice, which was sayin’ something with Casey. Well, I seen the look in Ken- nedy’s eye when he come up here, and t come up after him.” She winked broadly. ‘““Son, keep clear av him! thankin’ me. Good night!” Don’t be So she was gone, and Tyson was in-! stantly down the stairs and out on the He wanted - street. He wanted Kennedy. the man’s blood. He wanted to damage him in any and every possible way; and rather naturally, the first thing he thought of was the yellow-and-black necktie. comiclboool C@