Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 4, 1925 — page 86: what you’re looking at

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

876 to a head than I ought to be,” she said. ‘““Tve been afraid.” ‘Nothing to be afraid of,” he smiled, uneasily, This was a phase of her interest in him which he would gladly have fore- gone. ‘No. Evidently not,” she admitted. ‘But it’s been terrible to leave you alone here. I’ve often thought of you in this place, all alone at night. You see I know how Cliff Lederer hates you.” He laughed reassuringly. ‘“ There wasn’t any need to worry. Even Lederer is sane enough to know that his best chance of hurting me lays in being cood. Since that lynching party he must know that public opinion is all for a fair trial. “Why, even the Argus has swung round. Did you see that editorial against methods of violence?” He laughed. ‘“‘ When the drgus turns tail like that, it’s easy enough for even Lederer to see how the land lies.” ‘Well, I happen to know how insane Cliff can be when he flies off the handle. But it’s over now.” She gazed at him for a moment speculatively. Then: ‘‘ Good night,” she said. ‘Good night.” Still she paused there in the doorway with him. “Oh, I can’t tell you how happy I am to-night!” she cried. And she was, indeed happy. There was a singular sense of victory already hover- ing in the air. They both felt it. It was like a high climax, a peak of their achieve- ment. He seized her abruptly and kissed her lips. “And I, too!” he cried. And then stood, amazed at this thing which he had done. But she smiled. She smiled with no re- proach. She smiled happily. “ Good night,” she whispered, and turned to descend the steps. ‘Good night,” he mumbled, and stood, transfixed, gazing after her. He saw her step into the car, and he saw the car roll away. Long after it was gone he stood there in the doorway gazing after it: then he turned abruptly and reéntered ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. the house, closing the door behind him. And all these things Lederer saw from his hiding place beside the poplar tree. Cosgrove stood in the living room of his little frame house and gazed about him. The room was very dusty and disheveled, for it had not been put in order for all the days throughout which it had borne the scattered evidences of his tireless work. Now with those evidences cleared away, it appeared inexplicably bare and lonely. It bore the aspect of a festal hall after the party is over. Cosgrove stood in the middle of it and smiled. He was remembering the moment when he had kissed her, and it was sweet in his memory. His mind seemed fas- cinated by that moment, so that to every- thing else it was blank and impervious. He stood with his thought suspended upon that ineffable moment. It pleased him im- measurably. Had he obeyed the impulse which it stirred in him he would have followed her, if he had vielded to the desire in him, he would have sought immediately a repetition of that moment. But he did not. He stood quite still instead, a broad smile playing about his lips, held on the thread of recol- lection. From interior depths came the sound of dismal groaning, of rhythmic grunts and snorts. Samuel Dooley, devoted to sound sleep, was oblivious to the emotions which filled his master’s breast. From outside a long, drawn whistle sounded. It was a strange thing that a man should whistle out there in the com- pletely uninhabited spaces of the prairie, and Cosgrove, hearing the whistle, subcon- sciously wondered at it, as he was to re- member later. But in the preoccupation of this moment it served only to recall him from his reverie. Putting the dream resolutely out of his mind, he flung himself into the chair at the table, and plunged into a last reading of the papers ne had prepared. Becoming engrossed in them he forgot his loneliness, forgot the lateness of the hour, forgot sleep itself. And as he sat there in the night, they came. TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK lDOOlK