Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

2 -schedule, eh?” he continued. morning in ‘the courthouse. The cold, dead- ly passions he had felt then were rioting through him now. And yet when he spoke his voice was under control, although there was a strained, vibrant note in it. . “You're goin’ to build it right along your line, close to mine?” he a cure “ Right beside my land?” “"That’s the intention.” “You're runnin’ things accordin’ to a “ Everything to be done just hike it’s arranged.” . Cameron nodded. He was fascinated, but not intimidated by what he saw in Bal- : lantine’s eyes, and he felt a strange, internal stiffening, a stirring of antagonism mingled oddly with regret that Ballantine was dé: termined to choose war. And yet Cameron had felt all along that war between them was inevitable. He had seen if in Ballantine’s eyes there on the veranda of the City Hotel when Strong had introduced them. “ Sixty days!” said Ballantine, his voice — “You'll have your railroad— a cold drawl. runnin’ inside of sixty days. Well, don’t hurry it none, Cameron. For the longer it ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. takes you to build it the longer you'll have to live. Im givin’ you fair warnin’ that the day you run an engine down a track in front of my house, I’ll stand on the track and drill you full of holes!” He stood for an instant, motionless, watching Cameron, and Cameron returned his gaze while wondering, a trifle contemptu- - ously, if Ballantine thought the threat had frightened him. He smiled, without mirth; the smile of a fighting man receiving a chal- lenge; and a pulse of rage for the old man’s obstinacy surged through him. - All right, Ballantine,” he said shortly; “‘you’ve done your threatening. You'll have to make good. Tl run the engine on its first trip!” He bowed, first to Ballantine, and then to Virginia. glance, then stared downward. When Cameron reached the gate, closed it and mounted his horse, Ballantine and Virginia were still standing where he had left them. The girl was still gazing down- ward, but Ballantine was standing erect, defiant, his patriarchal head gleaming spot- lessly white 1 in the sun. | TO BE CONTINEED NEXT WEEK = eS 8 THE MEDITERRANEAN ITH languorous waves you tolerate a shore, i Where jagged rocks extend red arms to stress Their right to hold you slave. In sheer excess Of pride and arrogance those hills ignore The fact that soft luxurious clouds adore You too, and even droop in covetousness — To stroke your form. A wily sorceress, With dreams of reckless love, you must abhor The touch of those cold hands, but still you lie, SS Quiescent in voluptuous ease, until The wild winds blow from distant shores to thrill Your ardent soul. To keep you slave. Then let the others try You only toss your spray Across their eyes, while pean has its way. H arriette G. Bingham. Virginia gave him one es eo (S©) (E(6) micboo S