Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 115: what you’re looking at

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

A BOOB THERE WAS, “ But suppose they should come?” “Trust me to give them the wrong steer. If it’s only one or two, I'll bend my gun on them and tell them to beat it. If it’s a larger party, I'll cover you with sand as soon as I sight them and stick a piece of hose down for you to breathe through; and then make them think I am all alone.” ‘“ But we ought to be moving,” she pro- tested. ‘‘ What’s left of that coffee and sandwiches isn’t going to provide for us in- definitely. We must be getting somewhere.” “We'll be getting somewhere fast enough,” he reassured her. Northrup finds that I don’t show up this morning, he is certain to start out looking for me. And we couldn’t have any better guide post for him to locate us by than this heap of junk.” Convinced by this argument, Faith fol- lowed his suggestion, and was soon wrapped in slumber while Bob kept faithful watch and ward outside her improvised pavilion. But when at noon she awoke refreshed and they had disposed of the last of the sandwiches and most of the coffee, and still there was no sign of Northrup both of them began to look rather anxious. And when at four o’clock they were still vainly watching the sky, they were forced to come to a new decision. This was hastened by an unfortunate mishap on the part of Bob. He was rationing out a drink apiece for them from the scant remnant of coffee when he awkwardly knocked over the ther- mos bottle and spilled all its contents. One may do without food for a reasonable time in the desert. In that dry, furnacelike atmosphere one cannot do without some equivalent for water. There was nothing to do but start without delay in the hope of getting to a water hole. Estimating their position as well as she could, Faith judged that the nearest one was about twenty miles away. That stubbed toe was no longer a joke. Every step cost Bob a twinge of agony. But he shut his teeth, and with. the aid of a stick he had wrenched away from the air- plane, limped along. And Faith was in little better plight. Her night’s wandering had practically worn away the soles of her thin shoes, and the “When Cale 7Al burning sand was to her like red-hot plow- shares. Under the circumstances they naturally did not progress very fast. They had ad- vanced perhaps a couple of miles when Faith suddenly stopped. ‘““No wonder you want to rest,” com- mented Bob. “Whew! It’s hot!” For the wind had shifted, the sky was over- spread with a coppery glow, the air was like the breath from a volcano. ‘* Oh, it isn’t the heat,” cried Faith. Her face was white in that lurid light. “It’s a sand storm, and an awful one. Look!” She pointed to the rapidly diminishing horizon. Already the desert was beginning to whirl and undulate about them. A stronger puff of wind sent a spatter of fine sand against their cheeks that stung like bird shot. Bob’s eyes grew hard. He had never seen an exhibition of the power of the desert in this, its most terrible manifestation; but he had heard enough stories of sandstorms to realize the danger. Wildly he looked around him. No shelter anywhere in sight. Not even so much as a rock or a mesquite bush to shield them from that furnace blast. Even the frail protection that the wrecked airplane might have given them was lost. It was idle to think of retracing their steps and reaching it in time. They were out on the open plain, exposed to the full fury of the wind and the machine gun fire of a million shrieking sand devils. And the fiery deluge was almost upon them. What were they to do? CHAPTER XVIII. A TASTE OF INFERNO, HE desert is always referred to by those familiar with it as “ she.” Contrariwise, mountain peaks are generally endowed with the masculine gen- der. They bear the names of kings, states- men or explorers, or else, like a village ne’er-do-well, some such disrespectful ap- pellation as ‘“‘ Old Baldy.” As to the reason for calling a mountain ‘“he ” there is a difference of opinion. Some COMMicloooks (C@)