Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

218 innocent as a new thrown calf. upon his judgment. - Preest stared at him closely, fingering ‘with a lean hand at his belt which was loose about his waist. “I told you,” he snapped obstinately. “ You told me you was a shinin’ angel as I want the truth,” drawled Aleck. 7 “ A man can’t starve!”’ whined Preest. “ That’s my argument,” grinned Aleck. “‘ An’ if I tell the honestergod truth?” “It depends.” Preest appealed to the boy. ° “Tf I lifted a maverick it ain’t any worsen what the old man’s done,” he pleaded. David had to think that over. He regarded Preest with a thoughtful frown, his earnest eyes dark in the diffusion of the light that glared in the entrance behind him. “Then yo’ shore ’nuff been rustlin’ cat- tle!” snapped Aleck. “ What then?” demanded Preest. Aleck would have retorted with an an- swer, but David’s quiet voice was quick be- fore him. “T told my father,” he said, “ that if you’d been stealin’ cows, there was a law to take care of you. That’s why I did what I did. If you shore ’nuff been stealin’ cows, then we:take you to the sheriff.” He spoke very quietly, as a youthful judge whose mind was immutably fixed But the calm, level voice of the boy seemed to strike Preest - like a lash. Suddenly white as death, he leaped to his feet and glared wildly about, the terror of a hunted animal upon him. “T knowed it!’ he cried, and the cave echoed his despair. “‘ You turn me over to the sheriff. To Westock! Another of his hounds. You turn me over to be hung!” “To justice!” cried David. He sprang to his feet, his cheeks aflame with protest. “Tt’s to the law, Preest. J don’t aim to punish you. It’s just what the law says.” Wanting words, he turned to Aleck appeal- ingly. ‘ Tell him, Aleck.” “ Set down, Dave,” urged that gentle- man, ‘an’ eat yore food while it’s. hot. You, Preest, you’d best take some food, too. We know how you stand now.” Preest stood rubbing his damp palms upon his thighs. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. _ ee : “Yd ruther starve than take chances with Westock,” he growled. <eRatY urged Aleck. ‘ The kid’s playin’ this game to save yore neck,” he turned to — David who was reluctantly seated on the cave’s floor beside his plate. “ But you give him over to Westock, Dave, an’ he’ll hang shore as shootin’,” he said. “Westock’s the — sheriff,” David. : “They'll take him away from. Westock.”’ “ But that’s—that’s—” “No, it ain’t. Not in this country. Westock, he wouldn’t do no more than just turn him over at the first sight of Dasent’s guns. He’s got his orders, Westock has.” David gazed for a moment upon his friend, gazed too, at the wretched prisoner they had saved from the hanging; then without a word he bent his round head to the food: before him, and the three fell to esting with that solemn discontent of men who can find no words for thoughts which rankle. David first broke the silence after he had polished off his plate and scraped the skillett of all that his companions left. He arose to his feet and spoke with that quiet determination which since the night before appeared to have developed from an oc- casional characteristic into an integral part of the boy’s nature. “ Aleck,” he said, “I’m goin’ home an’ see dad.” “No!” Aleck arose, quick in protest. He remembered the old man’s parting shot. “Got to.” The boy voiced the conclu- sion to which long thought had brought him. “ This thing’s got to be straightened out.” : | “But they’re huntin’ the country for us!” Aleck suddenly stepped to the boy and took him by the arm. He spoke as a fond brother might speak to a younger protested ‘one, bending his head a little to peer into the boy’s eyes, gripping his arm firmly, as if to steady him against the shock of words. “Dave! Dave, old kid, I didn’t tell you all the truth about the old man, Dave. He’s out to get Preest dead or alive, an’ fer you, Dave, he’s out to take orf yo’re hide with a rawhide whip.” David had need of Se ae ee arm then. OKSEGCOM=