Adventure, February 1917 — page 193: what you’re looking at

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

The Fox-Trot of The Crazy Gleam about the hall where the night’s festivities were in full swing. Utah, the proprietor of the Crazy Gleam, was in the act of doing something in which he took a whimsical delight—the personal direction of his “five-nigger band,” as he himself put it. Utah was a tall man, enormously fat. His smooth-shaven face was shapeless—a mere’ mass of flesh; yet somehow one be- came conscious of a pair of blue and not unkindly eyes buried within that flesh. Re-. spect for his ‘mammoth proportions was sustained by the certainty of his mammoth strength and by his reputation for uncanny skill with the derringer. It was said that he always kept a half dozen of the deadly little weapons stowed about his person—in his waistcoat pockets and in his sleeves. Such was the rumor. Just now, obedient to the brandishing of Utah’s shapeless hand, the three accordeons, the cornet, and the piano, were sounding forth the tempo of a maddening tango. To the tune, men of all degrees of roughness were dancing with girls of all degrees of tawdriness, but one and all with an abso- lute lack of the restraint a more reputable society would have demanded. Some of the men had laid aside their ‘weapons in order to dance unimpeded. But Nick Ramsay noticed that Duke Bartlett— whirling past, chest to bosom and knee to knee with Hazel Kelly, still carsied a heavy ~gun on each hip. Kitty Courting jerked her head toward Bartlett and his garish companion. __. “Duke, there,” she said. ‘He guyed me a while ago, when you threw me down and wouldn’t dance. Yes, he did! He and that Hazel Kelly guyed me good and hard. Some girls wouldn’t stand for being treated the way you’ve treated me, Nick. Oh, you're mighty polite about it—but that doesn’t help any! Some girls would yell they were insulted, and would sick a man- killer on to you—a man like Duke, maybe.” “Yes, some girls would,” he agreed smil- ingly. Her gray eyes transfixed him. “Well! What’s the answer? If you like me so much, why don’t you dance with me —once in a while, anyway?” For the first time he showed signs of ner- vousness. His hand went up to smooth his brown hair, already immaculately laid, and his eyes wavered a little before hers. ™~e _— IQI “Well?” she said again. “I’m wait- ing!” , “T’ll tell you, Kitty,” he said. “TI haven’t éver danced with you just because I do like | | you so much!” He paused a moment, and a shadow dark- ened his boyish face. When he spoke his voice was very dreary. “You see, Kitty, I had a sister—a year or so ago—about your age, I reckon. She lived back where I come from. I hadn’t seen her for two or three years, but I never reckoned any could come to her. Then one day I got a letter from a friend! The knuckles of his hand, resting on the table, showed white. “Well, when I got home I was too late. She—and the man —were both gone!” His lips twitched. “You see, if she ain’t dead, I’ve always kind of reckoned she must be in a place— like this, or worse, by this time.” His slight form seemed to shrink a little in his c : “So, somehow, on account of her—of my little sister Bess—it seemed to me it was more respectful to you not to dance with you.” She stared at him, at first only half com- prehending. Then gradually the conscious- red crept beneath the gold-dust of her cheeks. Her eyes fell. “I—I see what you mean, boy,” she said softly. ‘Any man who comes to the Crazy Gleam can dance with me. Any man who spends money—enough money—at Utah’s bar, or who loses money to his card-sharps, has got a right to dance with me. And he’s got a right to dance the way he wants.” Her eyes strayed to her bare arms and to - the abbreviated skirt and the pretense of stockings which left her knees in the same condition as her arms. When she spoke her voice had a harsher note. “Any scum has got a right to treat me rotten, if he wants to—and_ he generally does! The way some men dance—faugh!” She controlled herself by an effort. Again her voice sounded softly mellow. “But you—you won’t dance with me at all, because you think it’s ‘more respectful’ not to! Babe!—Babe! I didn’t reckon there was anybody in this world would ever ~ think of being respectful to me again!” He nodded gently. ‘“*That’s the way I’ve sort of felt about RD ‘She regarded him in silence. Comichboo (CE)