Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

2 ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Rollin Ross Foster Livingston, in his mid- dle thirties, needs little description other than his full name. From this alone almost any one would correctly guess him to be tall and thin. Reddish beard on bony cheeks and angular chin is a full two weeks old, nondescript clothing is but rags and tatters. Pointed toed low shoes, curled up and brok- en, were never designed for tramping. Tat- tered silk socks hang in shreds about his thin, bony ankles. Hat has he none and his wavy brown hair is tossed and tangled as though glad to escape the routine of brush and comb. Now Shivver Slater, his nomadic com- panion, is dirty with the accumulation oi years. Dust is grimed right into his skin; thousands of black points are in the pores of his face, thousands of dark lines deep in the folding wrinkles of his neck, but his clothing is not so ragged. Perhaps the very grease and dirt embedded in the fabric helps to preserve it. Shivver is a short, thick- set, pussy fellow, with a bloated, gray and black whiskered face and little ratlike faded blue eyes. He is a professional Bolshevik. He bears no evidence of having recently fallen from grace like his companion. He is the natural born enemy of society, teach- ing the thin young novice how fo live off the country without cost and minus the physical agony of actual work. A little above this tiny camp is a narrow, bush-grown country road all too evidently not a main highway. A screen of black- berries purpling to ripeness hide the ravine from the road. The tall, thin one was about to call his comrade to supper, or whatever they called it, when his ears caught the swelling purr of a light car rapidly approaching on the old road above. Fear of law and order already instilled by his outlawed companion, Rollin hastily set up a flat stone so the blaz- ing fire could not be seen from the road and crouched low to the ground. In spite of all these precautions the auto- mobile stopped just above them, and two large, healthy looking young men came slid- ing down the steep bank. The first was tall and shapely, a bit over strong in sweat- stained blue shirt and worn corduroy trou- sers tucked into high lace boots. He was bareheaded, with tousled yellow hair, his large, red-lipped mouth smiling over strong white teeth. His companion was shorter, but wider, and fully as heavy; a cold, dark young man with a long, handsome face. Eyebrows and lashes were as ink—his cheeks were russet. He was in blue overalls, and the inevitable vest worn solely for the sake of its pockets. The sleeves of his worn cotton shirt had been cut off well above his elbows, displaying hairy forearms that would have been a credit to a gorilla. The smiling young blond giant addressed himself to the wayfarers: “ Q-ho!” said he. ‘“Q-ha!” answered Rollin, in no friendly voice. “O-he! O-hum!” ‘“ Greetings,” the other began anew, ‘* Hail,” answered Rollin. ‘‘ Well met! Ava' I give you good morrow, sir.” This pleasantry, smacking of sarcasm as it did, left the first visitor nonplused for a moment. “Your tickets—ah—allow a stopover for refreshments?” questioned the blond one. “Our tickets,” answered Rollin in the way he once had been accustomed to ad- dressing ordinary people, “‘ permit us to do pretty much as we darned well please.” “Such as trespassing upon the right-of- ‘““Ah, I had no idea this was your rail- road!” a The blond one grinned weakly, sniffing at the air. “Rabbits shall not be killed, caught or possessed between the 15th of December and the 15th of September ’’—sniffing again. “Ground hog,” corrected Rollin. “ TI ap- preciate your—ah—concern. Doubtless you feel—ah—a certain family loss.” The face of the blond giant flushed a bright pink. ““ Oh, Ed-dee ”—he turned to his: satur- nine companion sorrowfully—“ isn’t it piti- ful—strong men eating ground hog?” Ed-dee nodded that it was very sad. “You wouldn’t believe it,” smiled Rollin. “It actually has been worse—sometimes we do not eat at all!” : | The blond one turned to his silent, stern- faced, icy companion and spoke sharply. “Stop blubbering!” he commanded. i S ~ (S@) Gomicsoo