Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

FLIGHT TO - “Cut it out, man!” he _ exclaimed brusquely. “ Get this thing under con- trol and keep it there. Strangle it—don’t let it beat you! You don’t know how big you are, boy! Don’t let a woman you know nothing about snare'you. I’ve been through the mill, and I know. But you—well, you’re different—and it would come near killing you.” “I sometimes wishes hit would kill me,” declared Wade Murrell. “ Then I could rest plumb easy. But why should you fore- warn me?” “Only,” said Carroll very quietly, “ be- cause I distrust most women—and where the man and the woman come from dif- ferent lives—think different thoughts—I might almost say worship different gods—”’ He broke off short, and. Murrell nodded in wretched understanding. “ Thet’s why I don’t aim ter nuver let her know,” he said. “ Thar hain’t no bird thet eagles need ter feel ashamed afore— but yit they kain’t mate save only with other eagles—an’ eagles is wild.” He paused, then went on: “ But I’ve seed this gal when every drap of blood in her veins was eagle blood; I’ve seed her standin’ be- twixt me an’ a man thet was shootin’ at me from the black-dark la’rel; I’ve seed her standin’ up an’ frontin’ men thet was like ter break out inter bloodshed—’”’ Once more he paused, and once more his expression changed. Its hot impetuosity altered to the quiet of reverence. “‘T’ve seed her showin’ herself ter be ther pattern of bravery an’ ther pattern of gen- tleness. She’s eddicated—an’ I reckon she’s highborn. I knows God didn’t fashion her fer me—an’ so I aims ter hold my peace.” “You think ”—Carroll found the words hard to say—“ you think she’s too good for you, this girl?” “T think she’s too good fer any man,” came the instant reply, and it came like a challenge. “I knows, though, some day some man ’ll git her, an’ I hopes ter God he’s good ter her. Hit won’t be me—an ign’rant hill billy. God didn’t nuver will hit ter be me.” Once more he paused, and then he added: “ Thet’s fer why I’ve done kinderly sought ter throw ther two of ve tergither. THE HILLS. » 249 IT reckon she’s hurtin’ with lonesomeness, an’ ye’ve got all ther world ter talk about; ye’ve got ther same sort of blood in yore veins. I didn’t want her plumb obleeged ter be kinderly shut in with no man but me. Hit’s her due ter hev better comp’ny.”’ Carroll had listened to that description, had looked at the portrait painted in the high colors and bold strokes of idealiza- tion; and at first it had been hard not to break into ribald laughter. No, he told himself, that was hardly true—no man could laugh at such pent-up feeling or at such sincerity. Here the counterfeit had been fully ac- cepted as the genuine. The crass and vul- gar imitation had been set on a pedestal and canonized, and this inherently decent fellow believed himself unworthy to lift his eyes to the plaster saint! Too good for any man—brave and gen- tle! This little Broadway chicken, who had laid her blighting spell on him too, but laid it only in the allurement of the flesh and without successful disguise. The little gold digger who played with me and whose idea of morality was the highly technical one, dictated only by caution, of “ watch- ing her step.” As for bravery and gentleness, she was such a poltroon that she could step over the bleeding body of the man she had shot. and go away without a word. She was so cheaply vulgar that to any eye less guile- lessly ignorant than Wade’s she was a bur- lesque. Now she was vamping a man whose very bigness grew out of his naive innocence of the world. It was a bigness which she could in no way understand. She was playing a part before simple people—and she was getting away with it. The baneful little crook! For such a meretricious character the penitentiary was the proper place—that or an apartment in New York where she could be as carefully watched and 4s ruthlessly controlled as some deceptively beautiful panther may be controlled ee the lion tamer. Carroll’s determination was ‘stiffened: and yet, as he looked at the man before him, he thought, less in fear than in ay 1€ wae | “comicbooks:col