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.

646 bled into a windrow of dust and fell, send- ing the dust spraying in all directions. No one laughed. Channing heard some one curse, saying: “Damn you, run!” He turned to see the conductor of the train scowling at a cowboy who immediately obeyed. Channing paused before half a dozen bodies laid with suggestively careful pre- cision on the platform. They were cov- ered with sheets taken from a Pullman. They seemed strangely long, too long. Channing’s hopes rose. He sought the con- ductor’s side and questioned him. The conductor’s face was ashen. voice shook. “We've taken out eight,” he answered. ““There’s more. ‘Three or four, I think. No; I don’t know any of their names. You'll find some of the injured in the next car.” A strong light from one of the car win- dows shone on Channing’s face while he was talking to the conductor. As Channing moved toward the car to which he had been directed a man spoke to another. “ That’s Channing, of the Circle B,” he said. “Slick gun man. He can’t shoot this thing out.” ‘Some of his folks in this mixup?” “His boss, Eve Winthrop. She was go- in’ East with a young fellow named War- ren, to get hooked up. Channing seems to take it pretty hard, eh? For a fellow that was cut out. Did you get a good look at his face?” Channing mounted the steps of the car to which he had been directed. A dozen berths were made up and occupied by in- jured men and women. Other men and women in the aisles were giving the unfor- tunates first aid under the direction of a physician who had been on one of the trains when the accident had occurred. Dazzled by the lights, Channing paused in the doorway for an instant. And then he saw Eve standing before him. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, her glo- rious hair was in disorder. But Channing saw her eyes grow big at sight of him. And the next instant she was in his arms, hold- ing him tight and sobbing with her head against his chest. His ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ‘“*“ Where’s Warren?” he asked after a time. And before she could answer he saw Warren lying in one of the open berths near by. cS | Eve had not spoken a word. But when she saw that Channing had seen Warren, She said, quaveringly: . “He will die, I think. Our car turned over and Warren struck his head. He hasn’t moved or spoken or opened his eyes. The doctor says it’s a fracture.” She looked up at Channing, her eyes piteously pleading. ‘‘ Oh, Channing,” she cried; “‘ what shall we do?” Channing’s answer was to pat Eve’s shoulder reassuringly. He was _ helpless, though hopeful. “It ain’t likely that he’ll die,” he said. “Warren’s a rugged man, an’ he’s always lived clean. He'll pull out of this, sure as shootin’.” He felt her hands grip his arms and he © looked down to see her eyes. The light in them was calm and steady. “Channing,” she said, “‘ if he dies I shall die too!” Channing’s muscles stiffened, relaxed. “Yes,” he answered, “I reckon you would.” CHAPTER III. AN UNEXPECTED CALLER. HE hoodlum wagon, with Channing driving and Vallon frequently call- ing attention to imminent bumps, brought Wayne Warren and Eve to the Circle B about dusk the following day. Warren had not regained consciousness, and a doctor from Laskar, who examined him thoroughly at Red Mesa, declared days would elapse before Warren would open his eyes. He confided to Channing that the chances were against Warren’s ever regain- ing consciousness. ‘““He’s got a mighty slim chance, but he may pull through. But any chance he’s got he’ll have to work out himself for the next few days. There’s a great many that are hurt worse than he is. If I can get back within a few days I’ll come and look at him again, But mostly his getting over it de- Eomichbooks (E@)