Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

JUNGLE LOVE. sanctuary. In suppliant appeal for mercy to another, Leila had probed with a white wand. Response to its touch could have turned Artie face about to redemption. He had the choice; but he preferred to crush, to destroy, and with no penalty of man- made punishment before him, he became a matricide. He had betrayed a more prec- ious thing than life. He had severed the vital son-to-mother artery. He had mur- dered love. He expressed his views: “ Nix on the sob stuff, Leila. Mush don’t go with this dicky bird. Me for the dough and the good time. What’s eating you anyway? You've got the willies, that’s what. Too much tea, eh? We're both in the same little old boat. Eh?” “We're not. I sell myself. You sold out long ago- Now you're selling others.” “T should worry. If. you ain’t satisfied, it’s your funeral, it ain’t none of my doing that a lotter boobs get stung. Anyway, I don’t see what you’re up in the air about. Think I’m going to pass up a chance to make my bit?” _.. Leila made no reply. She held out her hand, tightly closed. It was a small hand, and the edge of a piece of paper protruded between ‘the joints of her little finger. “You're talking,” said Artie, quick to see the thing that spoke loudest to him. “‘What’s the great idea? A transfer? I . see, you want to get in on the deal. Open up. I ain’t taking no sealed bids. Not from you anyway.” ‘““There’s forty dollars here,” murmured the woman. ‘“ Will you take it and—” ‘Sure I will.” ‘“‘ And leave that girl alone?”’. “For that? Youre crazy. An’ you think I am. I ain’t saying from who; but you know as well as I do that I'll get five, ten times as much as that. You’re on the make all righty, but you ain’t got enough cash.” “Tl take my oath I’m on the level with you,” breathed Leila. ‘“‘ Give me time, and INl see what I can do. Take this, now, won't you?” . Artie turned sidewise, crossed his legs and brushed a fleck of ash from his knee. 405 ‘““ Money, cash money, and plenty of it is the only thing that talks to me,” he said, and added with casual] finality. “ You ain’t got enough of it.” “Turn round and face me.” As he stared the- impudent indifference faded from Artie’s face. Leila’s words had not been uttered above the volume of a whisper, but the force of an order was in them. The threat of a maddened creature was in her dark, intense eyes. “You asked me just now,” began the woman, “‘ why I wanted you to let that girl alone. have to get nerveus and look around for help, and nebody but you is going to hear me. you anyway. Mest of ’em would grin and side with This is just between you and me. If you move before I’ve finished I'll smash this glass in your face.” This was language that Artie could un- derstand. He sat quite still. Vicious, oh, yes; but he did not move. He heard some more, and listening—planned. | “It was,” went on Leila with no raising of her menacing, low voice, “a creature like you; a lying, lowdown rat, who shoved me over the edge of decency to hell. Your Yat mind could not understand if I told you the agony it means to a decent girl to be made a doormat of by things as foul and rotten as you are. You are so morally pu- trid that all you care for is to stick ciga- rettes in your ugly face, gargle booze, and eat. We women pay. To save our faces we pretend we like the life we lead. You— you scum, you grin and do like it. A wo- man ts never shameless. At heart she— Bah! I’m a fool to talk to a thing lower than a gob of mud. I tried to plead with you; I tried te buy you. Now I warn you. Leave that girl alone!’ Two minutes later Leila was at another table, back again to the guise of a Mog woman—gsmiling—but differently. The only way to effectually. and quickly render harmless a copperhead is not to give ‘it warning that it is going to be exterminat- ed or thwarted in its serpent ways. For upwards of an hour Artie sat— planning. This story will be continued in next week’s issue of the ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, the consolidated title under which both magazines will appear hereafter as one. CONMUC OOOLK Well, ‘I'll tell you. No, you don’t (COL