Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 104: what you’re looking at

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

See ‘The banter was interrupted by the en- 2S trance of a young woman bearing a great platter of ham and eggs and boiled pota- toes, which she offered in turn to each, be- = ginning with Joe Grant. ae Thumb and Hambone watched her with -__ arrogantly appraising eyes. She was a girl ze of perhaps twenty-eight, not exactly pretty __ but with a fresh wholesomeness that was arresting. She had brown hair, not bobbed ___ but rolled back in a thick wave from a fine es brow, beneath which friendly brown eyes shone brightly. She was fairly tall, strong- -___ ly built, and on face and hands was a warm tone partly the result of wind and sum, but owing something to hot ovens. It seemed as if a faint fragrance of fresh baked bread stole from her clean white apron-dress. “Two eggs for me, Ella,’ Grant said. “1m hungry as a bear.” “J’ll fry more if that’s not enough,” she smiled. ‘ The hens are laying fine now.” “Tell ’em to lay a couple more for me, then,” Thumb said as he helped himself. “How "bout it, kid?” 2 Ella’s friendly smile stiffened a little on her lips. For the first time she looked close- -___ly at the two strangers, and a vague unease seemed to gather deep in her eyes. + “Pve got plenty in the kitchen,” she said. ‘‘ Mr. Mosely never lets anybody get up hungry from table.” “Well, him and me. won’t fight over : that!” = For a few moments the three men ate if not exactly in silence, at least without words. Mosely had gone back to the of- fice, and Ella to her kitchen for coffee and to fry more eggs. : At last Thumb pushed back his plate. Saas “ Pretty good armful, that skirt,” he said to Grant. “ Made bedroom eyes at ya, sighed contentedly, = =to00!”? Grant looked up, Sanillode his mouth open for the forkful of ham which was ar- rested in its quarter circle. «uh? Oh, you mean she’s sturdy And Ella’s a mighty good girl, too.” “hey all are,’ Thumb = drawled. _- “Bless ’em! Well—I’m for a smoke.” _ His chair screeched as he shoved back ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. on the wide planking, and Hambone fol- lowed him out to the office. A few minutes later Joe Grant joined them. He had lin- gered for a few words with Ella while she was Clearing off the table. Sometimes he helped her after supper, wiping the dishes as she washed them. The girl was Mosely’s niece, and the only one employed about the great, echoing tavern; nor was she overworked. Mosely did his full share, and as has been said, - guests were few these days. Often there were none present for supper; and Ella would sit at table with Ed and Joe in a room where many and many a time more than a hundred had dined; and Mosely would spin yarns of the old days until their ears could almost hear the starter’s pistol, the drumming of hoofs, the roar of the crowd drifting in through the open kitchen door from the track just beyond. Then, as Mosely’s voice stopped, silence would infold them once more, the fog from the river would smother the field and blot out the palmgs and surge up against the ruinous judges’ stand, and far away a loon would burst inte horrible laughter, ending in a sob. To-night, while the rest were finishing their supper, Mosely had descended to his cellar, large as the crypt of a cathedral, and, having threaded his way among sundry casks, had from the last one filled a pot- bellied yellow pitcher which he bore care- fully upstairs. “IT don’t keep a drop of liquor on the place,” he explained, as Thumb Carlin en- tered the office. “ And I don’t sell this cider; just make a little for myself and friends. You never tasted better.” It was so. Amber-colored, a full year old; and pressed from sound Baldwin and russet apples, it had been allowed to freeze from time to time during the first winter, and the ice skimmed from its surface. The warm room was full of the aroma of apples. It was still, of course; fermentation done with months ago. It was wholesomely acrid, neither bitter ner sour; and the tumbler each man held was the inspirational co- efficient of feur fingers of well aged whisky. Thumb, unused to cider, downed half of oO Comichooks.co