Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

og a Se ee ote a = | — ae Ponte < ¢ oe — vv ‘hy Li a a t dy Ae Riku ATOR TS INN ack eo rhe ed ; at NG? PEL Sh, CM) Ned Me Np as Los pd ripe? hs DR ah a 7 ’ Olay vad EORGE KAY stood uncertainly on the outside of a gate, regarding it with a glazed eye that saw little. Though the day was in late fall and bit- ter he was without a hat, his thin coat blew open and he had torn Te0se the collar of his shirt to bare his throat and chest, for the man was burning up within. George Kay’s shoes were covered with mud and soaked with water and his trouser legs were wet and muddy almost to the knees, for he-had been through fields a d ditches in his erratic progress from a fc: gotten past toward a dubious future. I e weaved a little dizzily as he studied the gate with his brilliant, stupid eyes and one might easily be excused for thinking the big, hulking, bedraggled and bareheaded fellow more than slightly drunk with liquor. There had been other gates in the little town of Milledge, one in particular, an ‘ = iron gate between. high granite pillars and a savage dog in the yard beyond it. 3 had been doors, too, doors of peep There By JACK BECHDOLT small town houses and humble cottage doors, of many colors and kinds and sizes, but alike in that they had invariably slammed in his face before his thick tongue could explain how it was with him. his last gate was-at the edge of the little town. There was no other house ex- cept the garage at the bend of the road. It was a gate of wooden slats, several broken off and the remainder badly i in need of paint. George got the gate open, or it opened of its own accovd—at least he seemed to float through it with a curious effect of levitation. Then he found himself facing a girl. Her face was etched clearly in his conscietisness for a moment, not a pretty e face perhaps, but very vital and comforting to a fainting soul. He noted the girl was tanned like a gypsy and there ° was a spatter of freckles Across the bridge of her short nose. Her eyes were dark and looked on him with an alert interest, a little startled but not unfriendly. 632