Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 148: what you’re looking at

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

tling on the other side of the gl L tition. .A woman’s voice began a song—a soft soprano voice humming a gospel tune, and at that sound Durkin slowly settled back in his chair, straightened his color, pulled his cuffs down around his wrists, and was once again Durkin, gentleman, and prize convert of the Star of Life Mission. He shook his head and his eyes begged for mercy. “J can't,” he said in a whisper; ‘* T can’t. The fact is that I’m going to be married.” “ Married!” cried Springtime as sprang to his feet. “ Purk, you snitcher “ Ssh!” said Durkin, for the song had “Don’t shout so jolly loud, old he y» chap.” We caught Springtime by the wrist and forced him down into his seat, where the wanderer sat, betrayed, crestfallen, for un- til that bad moment he had not realized how much Durkin had been figuring in his plans for the future. Whenever his wild self had begun to scheme for the good days to come, Durkin had always been there and all those good times were to be doubled by the pres- ence of the tall man. Without him, life looked gray and uninteresting. Durkin shook down the stove and poured some more coal into it, all the time casting glances at Springtime which showed that he felt his own shame keenly. He arranged the dampers to the sixteenth of an inch and said: ‘‘ She’s a good soul.” ‘“‘ She has coin!” said Springtime bitterly, and while Durkin winced a bit, he showed no signs of anger. “ That’s what started me,” he said, “ but that’s not what finished me. It wouldn’t make any difference now; I’d go ahead with it, anyway. And winter’s coming, Spring- time; winter’s coming, and even in Cali- fornia winter is winter. Take a tip from a wise guy and settle down.” ‘“What are you going to do when you get fed up?” demanded Springtime, as he indicated the gloomy corners of the mission. ‘You can't stand this very long. A man can’t swear off roaming all of a Sidden any more than he can swear off dope all of a sudden. Durk, you’ve got to taper!” For a half second Durkin looked panicky, is tied, and when 1 broadening. And Id the idea, old boy, that the money that’s in it. Because At first, yes, but now, no. She. addition. Springtime, there isn’t an ot of meanness in that woman’s nature least, not more than an ounce. And whats more, I haven’t any other wives over t ea country, not even a widow.” "= He finished in a confiding whisper, and Springtime felt his anger evaporating under the smooth man’s words. But Durkin had no more than finished than that panicky look came back in his face and he looked over his shoulder. All their talk had been in whispers, but he sank his voice still lower and said: ‘“ All the same a man might get fed up even with perfection. You'll promise to drop me a line every two or three weeks and let me know where you are? And then I’ll get a leave of absence to go on a business trip and we’ll roam for a month—say, next spring. I have it, Springtime, I have it—a scheme that will settle it for both of us. You get something soft here for the winter, a job picking beans or something like that, . and then in the spring we'll start out for a ramble of a month or two. [I could probably get you a job through this outfit. How’s that?” Springtime shook his head firmly. ‘““ No, I’ve got to beat it now. TDve got to!” From behind the glass partition came a gentle call: ‘“‘ Thomas.” Durkin looked at Springtime with a queer, baffled expression in his eyes, and rising, slipped through a door. Springtime did not wait for him to re- turn; he got up and went into the street, which seemed empty, cold, and forlorn. If Durkin had been at his side, or Kitty, that Street would have been glorious, but he ~ needed one or the other. The northwest _ wind had freshened and poured dow street in a cold, damp stream. He p his coat over his throat and ar Eomiconor ‘S.' an