Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 119: what you’re looking at

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

WHAT WAS THAT? 397 tried to involve old Nathan Greenleaf in the affair made many and bitter murmurs against him. It was Saturday that Gus Dirks ap- peared. I shall never forget it. His. en- trance was dramatic from its very awk- wardness; he wore his Sunday clothes, in which he was not at ease, and his collar, a high, stiff, celluloid affair, almost eclipsed his chin, which was of the sinking variety. His stiff-soled shoes made him clatter as he made his way up the narrow aisle—an aisle which had grown more slender each day. as chairs were brought in to accommo- date the growing crowds. Outside, the autumn was making her coming felt; locusts shrilled loudly to fade off into nothing; bees hummed; the air was loaded with the drone of insects. It made one sleepy. I remember that my head bobbed from side to side, and that once I almost slipped off. It was not from boredom that I longed to sleep, but from neglect of sleep. At night I could not seem to find the land of dreams; instead, I saw the boat—the pink- gingham strips lying in tangled heaps on the roughly built dock, and the green- white pallor of Gloria Vernon’s face. ‘“ You're tired,” said Billy, as Gus Dirks made speech possible by his going up to the witness stand. ‘‘ You poor child!” I slipped my hand in his. We had long since ‘made up,” and when you do, you know what scraps are for. ‘Not very,” I answered, as I impertect- ly subdued a yawn, and then the judge of the district, whose name was Llewellyn, rapped for silence, and we = looked at the human carrot. “My name’s Gus Dirks,” he announced, his voice shaking a trifle from nervousness. — ‘““T live a piece away up the crick. Maybe you’ve-saw my truck farm up thataways. I’m going to tell what I seen of these here goings on, and it is fer that reason that I have appeared in this here court to-day.” He stopped, and you could hear people rustle a little as they leaned forward. Every one was listening so hard that you could hear them; the silence beat and was broken only by one big, bluebottle fly | which. was buzzing, kicking, and flopping up and down against a dirty window-pane. I can see that window now—the cobweb in the upper part of the sash, and the dirty shade, which was torn and run up on the bias. ‘Go on,” said the judge. “It’s this way; that there feller ”—he pointed to Billy—‘ was with her; that there nurse of Beasley’s what was killed, he was with her.” There was another rustle in the court- room. Some one sobbed—some one, I sup- pose, who did not know Billy from Adam. There was a lot of hysteria in the air. A lot of tense interest that came from noth- ing but the average. mob’s interest in the gruesome. “Who?” asked Gustave’s lawyer. “That there feller,” said Gus Dirks, again pointing to Billy. ‘““Stand up,’’ said some one else. 3 ‘Billy did. I clung to his hand so hard that my knuckles were white. seemed to be about me; he whispered: ‘Don’t worry, dear, this is nonsense,” and then faced the crowd. ‘There was a scrape of chairs from the back of the room, for people were mounting them. I heard a surging murmur. Some one back of me said: “I thought so—I says to Aunt Mandy that some one that wasn’t accused would be the one who done it—I says—” triumphant, the voice. I wondered what difference it made to them, how they could care. I gripped Billy’s hand even more closely, and hated the crowd—hated them all. And then the surging murmurs quieted, the scrape of chair legs on the bare floor was heard and silenced, and Gus Dirks went on: “Well,” he said, as he ran his hand around his collar, trying to ease it, “‘ it was this way. I was down by the crick layin’ His chief worry in wait fer them pesterin’ boys that swim and roile the water so the cows won’t drink —layin’ there low, a waitin’. It had been hot, if you recall; that there week was a scorcher, and I guess mebbe that was the reason I went to sleep; leastways, I think mebbe—” ‘Go on!” shouted Judge Llewellyn. ‘‘No- one cares kow you went to sleep! You com (eloy ebooks