Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 1, 1922 — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

HOPELESS HOMESTEAD. possible that she could endure the strain much longer. He voiced such a thought when she admitted bim, and, in a lifeless tone, invited him to take a chair. ““You are wrong; I could endure it to the end,”. she said. ‘“ There are only two more weeks of the seven year period left, remember. Then Ill be a free woman. And, oh Peter, you don’t know how glad I will be.” Kemp had intended to tell her that next day he would bring her husband to her, but as he noted the eagerness with which she looked forward to her deliverance from the man, he could not summon up the courage to do it. No, he would put off the evil mo- ment as long as possible. Perhaps some- thing would yet intervene to avert it. Hub- bard’s heart might fail him, he might acci- dentally drown on his way down stream, perhaps the Indian girl at Hay Creek might stab him, as she had threatened to do. Kemp realized that such thoughts were futile and foolish. Nevertheless, they fur- nished some slight excuse for what he knew only too well was his lack of moral back- bone to tell her the truth. He did, how- ever, pave the way in some slight degree for the shock he meant to inflict upon her. “¢ Alice,” he said, “ when I drop m to see you to-morrow morning I will have a com- panion with me. I don’t want to leave him atone with the motor boat on the river bank while I come up to see you, so I'll probably bring him along with me.” “Certainly bring him,” she consented. “ But you'll pardon me, I’m sure, if 1 don’t pay much attention to him. I cannot pay the proper attention to amybody or ‘any- thing nowadays. You can see that far yourself. Look at me. I’m a sight. And so is the house. And the worst of it is that I don’t care. While the dread of meetmg that man hangs over me, nothing matters. I can’t put my mind on anything—not even you, Peter dear.” “ Please don’t call me that,” said Kemp. “Tt hurts too much.” He said good-by to her then, and betook himself down the rocky path from her shack to the river with a great pain tearing at him. Conscience! What a frightful possession 339 it was! The satisfaction of knowing that, in bringing together two people whom the word of God decreed should not be put asunder, he had done the right thing, would be his, yes— but would that compensate him for the loss of the woman he loved? For the first time in his life Peter Kemp began to understand why some men become criminals; why they fling aside the ham- pering bounds of civilization and, like wild beasts, tear and rend and kill in order to satisfy primordial desires that existed eons before the law of fang and claw was re- placed by statute books. He did not sleep well that night, but when morning came he was ready to go through with the ordeal of taking Hubbard to his wife. He went to the barracks and saw to it that Hubbard was released promptly at the designated hour, then he explained to the man that his wife’s place of residence was located a short distance down stream. | ‘When we call on her I am not going to say one word as to who you are,” he warned Hubbard. ~‘‘ I am simply going to take you to her place and act toward you as though you were a casual companion. The rest will be up to you and her. Is that understood?”’ “* Sure,” rejoined Hubbard. “ You won't have to do anything.” ‘¢ All right,” said Kemp. “ Let’s get it over with. My motor boat is waiting. Come along.” Hubbard had washed his face and combed his hair, but aside from that he was the same wretch that he had been when he was arrested. His eyes were not as red and bleary as they had been, but still they were bad enough. A coarse beard still hid much of his face, and the clothes were the same ill-fitting rags he had worn in jail. They climbed into the moter boat and sped down river to Hopeless Homestead. Kemp ran the boat upon the bank and they climbed out. “Ts this where my wife is stopping?” queried Hubbard in a surprised manner as they climbed up the rocky path toward her neglected shack. “Yes,” said Kemp. “She bomesteaded this piece of land.” comicloool C©