Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 40: what you’re looking at

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

666 It was a horrible idea to grow in the brairi of a man that had been thrown into the river just a few hours before when he referred longingly to ‘‘ Moonshine Medi- cine.” But holding a woman on your lap, even only a half-portion of half-grown fe- male child, has a funny effect on a man’s previous inclinations. “Will you?” She jumped up and stood in front of me, all eagerness, her eyes glis- tening in the rays of the lantern that was our only light, for it was dark now outside. “T will,” I agreed, reaching for the lan- tern. I would not have known it was Duffy McFie, which is myself. Looking back even now I half doubt that it was me who stood inside that carefully preserved shed, after we’d smashed the door with an ax, and reached down through the secret door in the floor for jug after jug of mountain dew for that slip of a girl to carry out one by one and break. The whole clearing smelled like Louisville in its most prosper- ous days. “Your old man’ll get a fresh jag soon’s he approaches this atmosphere,” I told her. “My paw’s a funny cuss,” she confided, for she was getting real friendly now. “When he’s stewed he acts most almighty crazy—why, he don’t even know me then! To hear him tell it, he not only hain’t got no girl, but never had none. Reckon that’s why he don’t never leave me nothing to eat when he goes off for a couple of days.” “This ought to sober him up,” I encour- aged her. ‘‘ We’ve busted twenty gallon jugs. This must be a regular business es- tablishment.”’ “ He can make more with that still,” and she waved at the other shanty. “ Want to smash that, too?” I was ready for anything now. “T’m scared,” she says. ‘‘ He’s got some kind of a electric contrivance rigged up to kill anybody what touches it. Says he'll fix any damned Federal officer comes pokin’ round here.” “ Anyhow, he won’t get drunk to-night, unless he does it through his nostrils,” I opined. “ He won’t need to; he'll have plenty of it afore he gets back. That man can al- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, ways find the stuff.” She was getting gloomy again. “Oh, I wish I could only get him up to Jedge Rodenhouse. Jedge promised me last time I seen him up river he’d send my old paw to take the cure— whatever that is.” I knew the judge. In the old wet days he’d had liquor cure as his pet hobby, al- ways sentencing men to it instead of to jail. We boys used to say he resented the com- ing of prohibition because it interfered with his reformation work. “What would you do, while he’s taking it?” I asked. “« Jedge says he’ll get me a job.” “What do you want to cure him for, if he’s so mean to you. Why not just jail him?” She hung her head a minute. “T reckon I’m kind of fond of the old cuss, when he’s sober,” she said, like she was ashamed of her daughterly affection. “Would you like me to get him up to the city to the judge for you?” I asked her. “You couldn’t never do it. I done coaxed and coaxed.” “T mean do it by force,” I explained. I found I was getting so I didn’t want this funny little frowzy-head to think there was anything I couldn’t do. “Make him! He’s a lot bigger’n you and a regular scrapper, too.” I could see her sizing me up, like she wasn’t overly impressed with my prowess. I was slim, but I reckoned I was equal to any drunken sot of a dad she had. And I wanted to convince her. Anyhow, I couldn’t leave her here to the mercy of a brute like her father must be. I knew the gang would be back during the forenoon, following their fishing. If I tied up the moonshiner to take up to the old judge and took the girl along, to turn over to some charitable institution, my conscience would be clear. “What time does he usually show up?” I asked, not deigning to humor her doubts. “Some time afore daylight.” “How?” ‘Down the river in his skiff. Sometimes he’s so soused he misses the bulkhead and floats way on down, but mostly he makes it so straightlike you’d never know he had a drunk on.” Her voice was unconcerned. COMMicloooks (E@)