Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

She leaped to her feet again, and ran terror stricken to the door, but found no help there. She ran from one comer of the room to the other, vainly, without reason or control, and came back to stand clutching at a chair back, seeming to feel every blow which fell upon the boy. And she felt the more keenly because she could now see the mark of the lash upon his naked back: Old Man Parmelee had stood for a mo- ment relaxed after flinging the girl from his arm, and David turned to him with com- passion in his eyes where Parmelee had ex- pected to find pain and resentment. At that ihe old man raised the whip and flourished it in the boy’s face. “You'll defy me!” he gritted. ‘“‘ You'll fix yer face to laugh at me. You think I can’t make you cry.” His passion was ex- traordinary, ludicrous. In a sudden uprush of passion the old man seized the boy’s shirt collar with both hands and ripped the shirt from his back. “Now,” he cried, “ you'll beg for ever- lastin’ mercy!” The whip whined in the air and crashed viciously as it bit the smooth skin of the bare torso. Madge shrieked. David’s head sank for- ward, the puppy dropped to the floor and the boy drooped, supporting himself with’ his hands upon the table. The terrible old man braced himself, feet apart. Then, blind to the red welts on the smooth skin of the boy’s straight back, he raised his whip and brought the lash down again with a vicious whine. A scarlet stripe appeared as he raised the whip once more, but David, except for a writhing of the flesh beneath that satin skin, gave no sign that he was hurt. Again the lash fell, and the boy’s back quivered as a thin stream of blood showed that the skin was cut through. “Cry out! Fight! You puppy!” cried the furious old cattleman. ‘“‘ Yelp out, or Tl flay you alive.” Insanely he plied the lash, gasping with the effort of every stroke; flaying that satin skin with a madman’s ardor. But David, his head low on his breast and one arm flung across his eyes in a protective ges- ture, which suggested that he tried to shut eut an intolerable sight, jerked forth the thick word, ‘‘ No!” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “You will! You will!” The a = cracked on the flesh again. David caught his breath; there was a shriek of agony struggling in his breast for utterance, and the sweat streamed into his eyes, blinding him. Also there was an ani- mal that tore at his muscles, urging him to turn on his tormentor and rend him with © his hands. He was not conscious of how he writhed and twisted as he supported himself there against the table. He was not conscious of anything save an agony of pain, a passion of black fury, and the desire to fall senseless and unconscious for evermore. _ Crack! fell the lash, biting into the bleed- ing flesh, cutting the boy’s young body with its curling cruelty. A tremulous sigh escaped from David’s lips. He bit one wrist to keep his agony from utterance. His form drooped pitiably, and his head sank lower. “You can’t look at me! fight! You can’t howl! in the face!” wielded the lash. For answer, David dropped that guard- ing arm from his eyes, took up his dog in a protecting clasp and, drawing himself erect with a great effort, he turned upon his father the light of his brown eyes and all the conflicting passions which they held. No cry could have voiced the dreadful ar- dor of his eyes, and the flame of them, framed by the boy’s glistening brow and clean cut, unfurrowed face, struck the old man with an awful accusation. ‘“ Dad—” said the boy, and that was all he said. It was protest, and uncompre- hending pain. Old Man Parmelee stood with the whip in his hand wupraised. He glared at the burning and intolerable passion of his son’s straight gaze for a split second in awful silence, and then it was he who crooked one arm across his eyes. It was the old man now who tried to shut out a sight he could not bear to see, and as the whip hand and the lash fell to the floor, there burst from his lips a stream of profanity which was the horrible voice of a@ man who in that moment knew no God. You can’t You can’t look me gasped the maniac who He stretched out his arms as he screamed. Comicbooks com -