Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

18 To look at it was to succumb to a certain hypnosis, to see the red beat of the pulse of life and covet it. Toward sunset I went in to my lamps after one last sweep of the horizon. Only the dim amethyst cone of Great Natuna showed above sea level. Night descended with a rush, star after star joined in the eager race to display its light, the Southern ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Cross swung just above the lighthouse, and my own lamps joined the display, keeping. vigil over a lonely sea. I left the ruby in the little box and turned in without looking at it again, but I did not sleep well. Changwu’s cheerful smile had turned sardonic, I dreamed. and mocked me, ask- ing, “ What are you going to do about it, Kennedy?” And I couldn’t answer, (To be continued NEXT WEEK.) FTER an absence of a few weeks I A dropped into the drivers’ room of .the Colorado Motor Stagecoach Company—a company which operates giant automobile stages between points in Colo- rado where no railroad has as yet pene- trated. If I expected an uproarious greeting after my absence, I was doomed to disappoint- ment. Nobody was in the room but “ Six O’Clock ” Sullivan, so called because of his height and his general resemblance to the hands of a clock when in alinement. Six O’Clock—Six, for short—was wrapped in deep, impenetrable gloom. He looked up shortly as I entered, nodded abruptly, and returned to his meditations. I sat down next to him on the bench that ran around the wall. For a few minutes we sat in utter silence—I in patience and.Six in the pall of his evil humors. _ At length he spoke. “The ways of life is strange, sir,” he Me arson;n remarked in a hollow voice, producing a match from his pocket and twirling it aim- lessly. I nodded acquiescence. “There is nothing in life that has no relation to something else—nothin’ stands absolootely alone—nothin’ is good fer any- thing if it does stand alone. Am I right, or am I wrong, sir?” he asked morosely. I indicated that there was truth on his side. ‘Fer example, take this here match,” he continued. ‘“ Alone, it don’t do me no good except t’ make my pocket smell of bum sulfur. Combined wit’ a cigaret, how- ever—” He trailed off into another moody silence. | I took out my cigaret-case, and he helped himself to a tailor-made cigaret. “ Tf I may say so, sir,” he remarked after he had lighted it, “ you kin understand a hint as quick as some people kin under- stand a kick in the slats.” MICLOOOK C© inn