Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 82: what you’re looking at

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

236 trouble? Couldn’t you have left a note at the ranch house? Even a word to the cook?” . Her soft arms still lingered about his shoulders. ““ Ah, brother, I am sorry, but I dared not stop for anything. Could I tell Michael it was all a mistake? Could I make him feel foolish after he had dashed for hun- dreds of miles to my rescue? No! I didn’t have the heart!” Steve tried to regain his mental bal- ance. “ Have—have you done it since?” he in- quired. “No. I hope I never will! I do not want to make his worthy deed ridiculous. Would you? Give me your help. Aid me. Do not make a fool of him.” Steve looked at her keenly, with her arms still about him. ‘Are you sure that you will never make a fool of him?” asked the —— de- liberately. ? “No! Never! Oh, Stephen, I Ein that you have measured me by the elemental yardstick of folk who live simply; I know that you have not always understood me, nor I you; but do not judge me too harsh- ly, my splendid brother of the mountains and the plains. Once I was drawn into a very indiscreet thing; but I have suffered for it. Do not judge me by that mistake alone. Let me prove my worth in my own environment as you have proved your worth in yours.” He read her sincerity. He drew her close and kissed her. “ May it be that way, then!” he agreed, gently. ‘ Good luck to you!” Hand in hand they walked out of the waiting room and toward the handsome fellow pacing the concrete walk. Paula ap- proached him first. “My brother is not unreasonable, “Michael,” she announced. “ Come. Shake hands. After all, we are in the same fam- ily now. Let us be friends!” Steve extended his hand. _ “Under the circumstances,” he an- nounced, wits the proper amount of re- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. They shook hands, though somewhat stiffly. Paula and Michael, bowing and smiling with varying degrees of warmth, raced for their boat to cross the bay. Steve returned to his weary employees in the car. “ Where’s Paula?” demanded Shorty. “‘ She’s gone home, safe under guard.” “Safe already? Gosh, you sure work fast.” “ Oh, I’m trained to it now. Start the car.” They went to San Francisco on the auto ferry. The valiant machine was taken to a garage. The blear-eyed trio managed to gain entrance to a decent hotel and fell into their beds and slept till the next morn- ‘ing. Then they bathed, shaved, and bought new clothes, appearing shortly ‘as respecta- ble citizens. Steve let his companions explore the town. He hired a taxi, ignored Paula’s home for the time, and rode to a house on a side street. A grim landlady ushered him into an old-fashioned parlor and went upward to announce his presence. Shortly Beth came downstairs, dressed in her old gray street suit, carrying a roll of music. He saw that her face was still pale, but her brown eyes twinkled at sight of him. “Paula told me you had pursued her across two States,” said Beth, shaking hands. “ It must have been quite thrill- ing!” “Yes,” he said inanely. “ Sit down,” she invited. He seated himself, trying to gather from her face some idea of the lone-handed bat- tle she had been waging during the absence of Paula, her best “ customer.” But Beth did not seem as tired as formerly. Perhaps she had not been nursing any battered cat- tlemen lately. He deserted his chair. “ Listen, Beth,” he pleaded. “One time you told me I was too busy, too sick, too burdened, too charitable, and all that. Well, that day’s gone. I want to take you down to Arizona with me.” She seemed estartled. “Ym not charitable,” he explained. ‘““T’m not even sick, I didn’t chase Paula across two States. I didn’t care a hoot |