Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 1, 1922 — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

HOPELESS HOMESTEAD. thought that he may come here and claim me for his wife makes my life a perfect nightmare of horror. Day and night I live in terror for fear a rap will sound on the door and he will appear—that beast, that thief! Sometimes I think that if he does I will seize that pistol hanging there on the wall and shoot him. But of course I wouldn’t, I would just—oh, God only knows what I will do if he appears!” She paused for breath. | “T don’t know why I am telling you all this, Mr. Kemp,” she went on more calmly. ‘Because you said you were my friend and I believe you, I guess. God knows. I need a friend. You ave my friend, aren’t you? You won’t repeat all this? Of course I know you can’t arrest Carter for the rob- bery he committed back in the United States, otherwise I would not have told you about that.” : Kemp had risen when she had. Now he stood for a moment, gazing down into her sad, wistful eyes. He took her hand in his. “ Alice, dear,” he said. ‘ I am more than your friend. I love you. I want you to marry me.” She withdrew her hand and took a step backward. “But I can’t marry you,” she replied. “Don’t you see? I’m not free. At least, I don’t know whether I am or not. I am still Calvin Carter’s wife and he may appear to claim me as such at any moment.” “You can get a divorce, Alice. Any court on earth would grant you your free- dom from a thief who deserted you nearly seven years ago.” She shook her head sorrowfully. “T can, yes—but I will not,” she an- swered. ‘ Perhaps Calvin needs me. May- be, if he comes to me here, I can make a new man of him. Perhaps it was partly my fault that he ran away from me with stolen funds and another woman. Maybe I nagged at him too much. Who knows? Anyway, I am not the sort of woman, Mr. Kemp, who takes marriage lightly. I took Calvin Carter for better or worse, remem- ber.” Kemp gazed at her reverently, like a de- votee at a shrine. He had wondered if 831 she were good enough for him. What a grim joke that was! She was a thousand timies better. ‘““ What if he should not return to your” he queried gently. “Tf, at the end of seven years, the law says that Calvin Carter is dead, then to me also he will be dead,”’ she replied. Kemp clasped her hands again. “Will you marry me if he doesn’t ap- pear?” he questioned eagerly. She did not reply; merely looked down at the floor as though striving to make up her mind. ‘‘ Please say you will,” he entreated. She looked up then with glowing eyes. “TI will,” she murmured. Kemp tried to draw her to him, but she stepped back and held up her hand to ward him off. “No, please,” she said. ‘I may still be a married woman, remember.” ‘“ How I hope that you are not!” Kemp regarded her in silence~for a moment. “I don’t like the idea of leaving you here alone for—let’s see—three and a half months longer before the seven years are up. You'll become a nervous wreck. Isn’t there some way that we can find out if Car- ter is likely to come to you?” “‘ None that I can think of.” ‘ Confound it!” exclaimed Kemp. “ The chances are a hundred to one that he’s dead and yet you’re going to worry yourself about him for three whole months and more. He must be dead. A good-for-noth- ing loafer can’t exist for many years in this cold climate.”’ It came to Kemp suddenly that there was an exception to this rule; he remembered a notorious loafer who lived down the river when he first joined the force and was still living there. ‘‘ Have you a photograph of Carter?” he asked. ‘‘ Let me see it if you have, and I'll tell you if he’s likely to come calling on you. I know most of the white men who have lived in northern Alberta for any length of time.” . “Here it is.” Alice opened a suit case, took therefrom a photograph and handed it to him. Kemp glanced at it. At first it made no DOOK C©