Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

VALOR. “Now hold ’em up, an’ let’s see you drop them guns!’ quoth Aleck blithely. He paused until he was sure he had been obeyed. Then, ‘‘ The kid here’s ridin’ herd on Preest fer a spell,” he said; “ an’ I want he should ride away without no more shootin’.”’ He turned on David with apparent care- lessness. “‘ Just take yore man and pick him out a hawse,” he advised. ‘* Then ride like hell to a place you an’ me know of.” He seemed to ignore the others while he daade sure that the boy understood him; but no man dropped his hands. David, still holding his father’s gun, still silver white from the peril that was past, gazed on his friend doubtfully. ~“No more gun-play, Aleck,’ he said. “ Just justice is all that’s worth dyin’ for.” He took the bridle of the pony on which Preest sat, and started to lead it from the hill. “ Justice!”” Dasent burst forth with an ugly laugh. “ Fine talk to give to yore father’s hired gunman!” Davie swung about. “Tf there’s been a Parmelee on this range that’s been blind to what justice means,” he cried, “ you can know now, Dasent, that there’s a Parmelee here that’s goin’ to protect it.” His clear, boyish voice was all alive again, and Dasent felt an irrational discom- fort before the gaze which pierced him. ‘‘ An’ Aleck Sheffield’s my friend!” added David proudly. “ Then yore dad ‘ll have ter get another bodyguard!” sneered Dasent. And David, remembering the respect which each man had paid to Aleck’s gun, realized for the first time why his friend had so constantly remained at his father’s side. He turned to Aleck with a new light in his eyes, but that gentle humorist was intent upon the group before him. ““S’ long, Dave,” he drawled. ‘Best light out an’ let these gents relax their arms. Jud Dasent, there, he’s already get- tin’ loosed up conversationally.” “No gun-play.” David spoke very crisply. “None of my startin’, Aleck assured him. And he stood there, humorously ad- 4A 209 juring his prisoners for long after David and his hostage had departed. When he considered that time enough had elapsed to give David ample safety, he lightly slipped his guns into their sep- arate holsters. “It’s been a nice evenin’, boys,” he remarked pleasantly. “ But I got to go ridin’, You-all had best stay here a spell, ‘cause I shore like to ride alone moonlight nights like this.” His voice mysteriously lost its pleasantry without seeming to change its tone, ‘“ The first gent that comes in sight of me the next half hour,” he said, “ is shore unfortunate and weary of this life.” And, backing away from them, he turned. quickly at the hilltop and was in the saddle and away before the first man reached for his discarded weapon. They did not follow him. . —————— CHAPTER IX. THE BITTER, BITTER SENTENCE. HEN Healey, the cook, and Chung Lee, who endured life as his ap- prentice, found Old Man Parmelee on his hands and knees in the doorway of his bedroom, they lit a lamp there, and would have carried him to the bed, but Parmelee balanced himself on his two feet and stated that he was about to dress himself and deal with the events of the night in person. Healey, fearing delirium or stark madness, protested stoutly, but the old man had his way. Something had happened to him there in the darkness. He couldn’t understand what physical aberration could have turned the world black and taken away his mind for that intolerable moment, but he convinced himself that it could be nothing serious, and proved his triumph over it by standing erect while his body cried out for bed, and donning his clothes while a nameless fear obsessed his unconscious mind. For a strange elation possessed him. His heart was full to bursting with the satisfaction that surged in with the realization that David had accepted his challenge. Fully dressed, he rocked unceasingly in ComiclooolkkS.cOnn hig oe Salty Sy, AED, Psi