Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 155: what you’re looking at

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

>» DESERT Wyndham, Hayden and the girl were set- tling their affairs. Hallie Crockett witnessed a _ peculiar meeting between the two men who had been suitors for her hand. Hayden, she observed, had recoiled paling, staggering back into the room. She saw Wyndham follow. The three found themselves in a tiny place, scarcely six feet square, the window crossed with big rafters, the roof slanting down to as to touch Phil’s unkempt shaggy hair, the door twisted askew, leading into the débris of the main dance hall. But the peculiar thing about that meet- ing was that Hayden—who, according to Hallie’s analysis, had proved himself an inveterate coward—did not flinch at this meeting. Instead, when he caught Phil’s eye he actually seemed to raise himself to his full height. But it was not the act of a man standing up to face an enemy. It was more like a cornered, terrified thing becoming suddenly congealed, as for instance a squirrel that sees a dog. Phil drew back his arm to time a blow. Both Wyndham and the girl instantly had the peculiar illusion that Fred Hayden could not have raised his arm to protect himself from that punch. He appeared to be actually paralyzed. They were right. Hayden’s stare directed at the disheveled and blood smirched man before him was vacant, fatuous, almost imbecilic. He opened his mouth, saying in an almost un- intelligible simper: “ I won’t fight. If you have come to kill me, kill me. I won’t fight. I can’t. Iam done for. I am—” His voice broke miserably, and as it broke the rigidity of his pose broke also. He staggered back, leaning against the twisted plank like a drunken man. “Now, then!” Phil burst out, exultantly. The girl stepped back with a frightened cry. The imminence of what she feared horrified her. “What reason is there that I shouldn’t kill you here and now?” Wyndham de- manded. Hayden did not answer this. He did not _ even plead for mercy. It seemed to Hallie = Y <a t- ~ ee at 4 - sere 4 eee an oe ~ VOICES. 781 as if he had not heard what Phil was say- ing—that from then on he would be deaf. Something else was obsessing his mind. What had happened to him? What was going on there in his mind? Had he gone through some secret tragic scene that night of which the girl and Phil Wyndham would never know? What was he fighting against? A thought came to Hallie, as a sudden revelation will come in a crisis of extreme emotion. Fred Hayden had changed that night from a suave, self-satisfied “ pillar of society ” to a man hiding a crime. Perhaps it would never be known what that crime was. Perhaps only one other man ever did know and he could not di- vulge the secret. For that man’s body— John Denver—was lying on the floor of the next room. These thoughts flashed through the mind of Hallie Crockett in merely a.fraction of that climactic moment. There was scarcely any pause to Phil’s furious words. “What reason is there that I should not kill you for bearing false witness against me? For stirring up those men to lynch me? You had them judge me to-night. Now is my chance. I am judging you. What can you say to save yourself? Nota damn word! No man can defend himself after what you have tried to do—to me and to this girl.” Hayden answered this time, still staring vacantly at Phil—as if looking through him to the room beyond. “No, I can’t defend myself against you. Only let me go. Don’t take my life, I beg you. I have done nothing.” There was a surprising, an uncanny lack of passion to his voice. He spoke toneless- ly, he whispered, he gibbered, in fact, only a part of what he said could be heard. “T will go away. I will promise never to come again. I will never see her or speak to her. I will never remember her if you will let me go. Give me my life!” Phil stepped to him perplexed, baffled at the absolute lack of emotion the man was showing. “Took here, you poor scared mongrel,” he said, “ are you putting this on? Are you going to play another trick on me as you did up at the Doxey House? You would EOMIECHOOKS. CO —~ Ms i war . es = s met a poe | = a eee