Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 16, 1921 — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

38 Indeed, Samson Integrity could hardly prop his eyes open while he swallowed a hasty meal; then he followed the example of his companion, who had wrapped him- self in a cloak and lay down on the floor near the fire. That floor was already littered with sleepers, for the tavern was crowded from cellar to garret by a returning host of pleasure-seekers at a May fair. Samson had hardly laid his head upon his rolled- up cloak, which served in lieu of a pillow, when he was sound asleep; and at his feet stretched the deer-hound Geoffrey. CHAPTER XI, SWORDS. AMSON was so thoroughly exhausted that he fell into a perfectly dreamless sleep and it seemed that he had hardly closed his eyes before the familiar, low snarl of Geoffrey wakened him again. He passed from drowsiness to wakefulness the more quickly because the hard floors left him bruised in a dozen places, and he was swift- ly conscious of the discomfort. Accordingly he sat up to change his position. He had attached no meaning to the growl of Geof- frey; the animal might have dreamed of the chase, but now that Samson sat up he saw a curious picture in the hall that ar- rested his attention. Mine host, who was a little lean man, quite bald except for a single tuft of gray hair in the exact center of the head, stood there wrapped in a cloak which must have belonged to his wife’s wardrobe and un- derneath it his hare, skinny shanks glis- tened in the light of the lantern he held. It was carried high above his head, the bet- ter to observe his nocturnal visitors. These were four men whose faces Samson Integ- rity could not at first make out, partly be- cause they all wore cloaks with the collars turned up high about their faces, and partly because of the deceptive light. It was plain, however, that mine host was much alarmed, and the reason for it was not far to seek. Here and there the lantern light glittered back in sharp points; and Samson, peering more closely, made out easily that the four were armed to the teeth. One of them ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. dropped his hand on the shoulder of the host, apparently questioning him closely. The answer he received must have pleased him, for a coin shone yellow as he dropped it in the shaking hand of the little man. The latter, overcome by this generosity, bowed to the floor and then began obsequi- ously to point upward and whisper direc- tions. The becloaked stranger nodded at length and then disappeared noiselessly up the stairs. The landlord at the same in- stant stepped back into another passage. But Samson Integrity did not need the light of the lantern when he looked about him. It was already gray daylight, a chilly gloom that dripped in through the windows and half illumined the grotesque figures on the floor. By that dim light Samson stood up, donned his cloak, and buckled on. his sword with hands trembling from eagerness. There was work before him which needed speed. First he stepped to that corner of the floor where he had seen the ‘hostler curl up for the night. This lad Samson shook by the shoulder and at the same time hissed into his ear—for one who is awakened by a hiss will never make an outcry—and it has- tens the return of the senses. “Boy,” whispered Samson Integrity, “here is a shilling and another shilling. Up to your feet—no noise, mind! —and out to the stable. Harness the four grays to the big coach. Quick! Stop for nothing— not even to water the nags. Clap the harness on them. If you are speedy you win a guinea to top those shillings. If you are slow you get a cudgeling instead.” The lad closed his hand convulsively over the coins, shot a single intelligent glance at Samson, and instantly glided from the room, picking his way among the sleepers. . Not one of them had awakened, for the whispers of Samson passed unnoticed in the steady thunder of two or more formidable snorers. Next he passed to the coachman; at the first touch of his finger on the sleep- ing man’s shoulder the latter started to his feet, his hand clasping the hilt of a dagger. ‘““No sound!” cautioned Samson. “ If you can use a sword, belt it on and follow me. There may be need of it.” “My sword-arm, thank God, is whole,”’ CORMICOOO© S (C@