Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

>, ee ae ALS AM akon BO EAR We nea be MU iy 3 488 = a me, = Sas 5 7 we, = Ran be DN A epUT TN ad ’ 4 f ‘ U MOR Ni PM ICRA PME ak | presented. His head was rather lean, cee cut, and medium wide between the ears; his forehead a bit arched; his skull sloping and continuing to a long, pointed muzzle. His jaws were strong and overlapping. There was a lively, intelligent expression in his dark oval eyes. His eary were of medium size and pointed. They stood erect and turned to the front. The neck was strong, with well-developed muscles. The chest deep, but not very broad. The ribs were flat and the stomach held well up. The back was flat and strong. The shoulders were long and sloping, and the legs straight. The feet, sunk lightly in the carpet of pine needles, were short and round in shape. Old Lebombard, with an expressive ges- ture of his lean, strong hands, again re- peated the name: ‘‘ North Star.” Something was happening to Wilbur’s eyes. Thin glazes seemed to be lifting from them. He stared steadily at the dog. They lost their vagueness and a definite expres- sion settled in its place; an expression that changed as the second passed from curiosity into one almost of awe ‘““ God,” he said quietly, ‘ ‘you wonder! ”’ At the sound of his voice, low and nerv- ously pitched, a shock seemed to flash through North Star. His head turned un- til his eyes were in line with Wilbur’s. Be- tween the man and the beast shot certain definite lines of communication as finite as concrete things, lines that no eye can ever see, lines that no brain can ever compre- hend, were they to try until the end of time. They registered their presageful message in hammer blows upon Michael Lebom- bard’s heart. Marcia saw nothing but a satisfactory specimen, a most satisfactory specimen, of the type of dog she expressly desired to buy. _“ He'll do,” she said abruptly. ‘Vi give you five thousand for him.” The old man looked not so much at her as beyond her. It was as if her body of- _ fered a glass through which he saw some private images of his own. His voice was harsh and grating as the ice that breaks in springtime. ‘Five thousan’ what, imademoiselle? & : Dollars, of course.” Star, mademoiselle. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ~ “Dollars, mademoiselle?” Michael Leborbard did not change the peculiar evasiveness of his gaze, but his eyes grew hard as glazed coal. He shook his head. “Ten thousand.” “Tt is not the amoun’, mademoiselle— a single one would do as well as many. It is the medium of barter.” =< She tried to return his look impatiently, but it evaded her. “Barter? You mean you want some- thing in exchange?” The flood of pent words burst forth in a torrent. - “Sacre nom de Dieu, mademoiselle, I wan’ nothing in exchange. North Star, he is not for sale. Vidinette and Jacques, if mademoiselle she desires, then yes. But for North Star, not twenty times ten thou- san’ dollars could him buy. If mademoz- selle had said five thousan’ smiles — five thousan’ tears—five thousan’ thoughts of misery, of happiness, of love—”’ “But you came down to sell your dogs? The papers said so.” . “‘ Mademoiselle, ¥ cannot sell North Star! One cannot sell a king!” “But I want North Star.” “Tt is not a question of who wants North It is a question of who North Star wants himself.” “Tt don’t understand you at all.” - “Tf mademoiselle will have a little pa- tience, perhaps I can explain.” Marcia was only too sure that she would have no patience at all. There was none left within her. But she wanted North Star. Furthermore, she knew men. If she were ever to get the dog she must contain herself until this tiresome old man had finished his maunderings. Then she would offer fifteen thousand dollars. She would write a check on the spot. If necessary, she would add one smile, at an extremity, one tear. The tear, in her present condition, would be easy. That it would be a tear of rage would be of no matter. The old idiot could interpret it as he liked. She suppressed a heartfelt curse against foibles. -‘*T have patience,” she said. _Lebombard did not shift his gaze. He comicbooks.co ee ra ee eee ge