Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 4, 1925 — page 135: what you’re looking at

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

SENOR JINGLE BELLS. 925 El Cantor started. Then he thrust furth his hand. ‘“ Don Mateo,” said he, “it is true. I came here to destroy you. I leave you con- vinced that you have done nothing which a man of honor would not have done.” Their hands joined. ‘And yet, my friend,” said Don Mateo, “how did you manage to escape? But you were warned. You did not go to the town to-night.” ‘I was through the fre. I wear a charmed life,” El Cantor replied. ‘ And another thing: You may tell the charm- ing Alicia that I have forgiven her, also.”’ ‘ Before you go, Senor E] Cantor, a glass of brandy—”’ ‘“T have no time. ‘Adios, amigo.” And the fugitive, retiring to Monsieur le Duc, mounted and galloped away through the dark—the deepest dark of all, for the first early penciling of dawn was about to streak around the outlines of the hills. Adios.” CHAPTER XXX. LOVE ALL AWRY. HERIFF WALTER LONG, like many men of natural great good-humor, was slow to anger but, once aroused, clung to his purpose like a bulldog. He clung to it now, while the others wearied of the chase and felt its futility. Still he pushed straightway through the hills. working his men back and forth and combing every hollow until they were far from Glorvyville and the light of the dawn began to stream up through the eastern sky. But when they saw a living figure before them, it was not a mounted man, but a giant striding on foot across the brow of a hill against the sunrise. The sheriff recog- nized the outlines of that form, even at such a distance. ‘We've missed El Cantor,” he said, ‘‘ but we have the next best bet. It’s Little Samuel!” They swarmed around the great negro, reining in their horses with triumphant whoops. Little Samuel affected to greet them with great joviality, taking off his hat and wav- ing it. ‘““ Well, Mister Sheriff,” said he, ‘“ dog- gone me if it ain't been a lonesome walk across these here hills. There ain’t nothin’ more sort of convenient to me than havin’ you along to keep me company—”’ “Sam,” broke in the sheriff, ‘“‘ where's your master?”’ ‘* Mister Sheriff.’’ Little Samuel replied. “JT ain’t got no master. I’m a free nigger. Mr. Long.” ‘“ Mind your tongue,” the sheriff declared, “or you'll be free a damned short time. Sam, I want to know where Jingle-Bells may be found.”’ ‘“T’m aimin’ to find out the same thing, Said Little Samuel. ‘I was figgerin’ that one of vou gents might know where I’d find him.” The sheriff could not help smiling. a grim smile in the faint morning light. ‘Well, Sam,” said he, ‘I suppose it’ll have to be an argument. If—” But here Hugh Nichols, riding up beside the sheriff, came ful!v before Little Samuel. ‘““You black rascal.” Nichols remarked, but without passion in his voice, “ do you think I have cause enough for putting you Im jane?” ‘““Lord God save us!” cried Little Sam- uel. ‘“ Mr. Nichols, vou ain’t gonna hold a little joke agin me?” ‘A little bullet,” said Nichols, ‘‘ which combed through the air a few feet above my head—was that a joke, Sam?” ‘A joke?” Little Samuel exclaimed. “Tl tell a man. Why, sir, if I’d been aimin’ to drill you clean, it wouldn’t of been—”’ ‘“ You can tell that to the judge.” said the sheriff. ‘‘ Sam, vou’re under arrest.’ Little Samuel shouted with rage and ap- parently with wonder. ‘““Tt’s a outrage,” he declared. ‘ They ain’t nothin’ agin me. I ain’t done nothin’. Tm—” ‘““Steady,”’ said the sheriff, solemnly, “‘ because everything vou say now may be used against you!” The great mouth of Little Samuel closed tight; thereafter, he said not a word as he was escorted back toward the town. Only, ”) An GIOok