Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 4, 1926 — page 146: what you’re looking at

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

456 “See it! Good Lord—I’m getting too blind to see my own hands.”’ “The buzzard’s there just the same. And it’s spotted us. I can tell it’s following us. If it was wheeling up there waiting for a coyote to die, it would come much lower. They stay up high when they spot a dying man.” His face sank to his arm—pressed against the leather, which burned his cheek. “Where is it now?” he asked. “It’s coming lower.”’ “Lower!” he gasped miserably. “It sees me on the ground. It thinks I’m dy- ing!” * You are.” , She saw his hand tighten on the hot pom- mel. The other hand clutched her franti- cally, like a man drowning. “T’m not dying, by God!” he screamed. “Tl get away! ll fight. Vil fight ’em all—buzzards and men both! They won’t get me, so help me! Think I’m through? No, not by a damned sight.”” He pulled at her. “Help me up. Quick! I'll ride be- hind you.” She had an impulse then of shoving him back to the sand. But she thought better of it. As yet his defeat—at least from a physical point of view—was not accom- plished. Mentally, perhaps, she had him beaten. But she could tell by the grip of his hands as he hauled himself up that he was by no means helpless. “ Are you going to help me?” she heard him snarl. ‘“ You aren’t helping me. You’re soldiering. Damned if I don’t think you’re going to ride off and forsake me. That’s your game—isn’t it, now? But not if I know it! JI know a thing or two about you double-crossing bats. Made my horse drink out of your hat—that’s what you did, so you could ride off? You think you'll ride off, eh? Oh, no!” He was behind her now, gripping her with one vise-like arm, and snatching the reins, roughly, forcibly, from her hands with the other. As a matter of fact, his fear that she would ride off came at a very peculiar time. It was almost a coincidence. She had had that very impulse but a moment before, when he was thrown from his horse. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, She knew that his horse would be unable to carry him any longer. She might have wheeled her own mount, and galloped away. But she reflected quickly that Ladley him- self was not hurt. If he saw her forsaking him, his first act, even before taking an- other glance at his fallen mount, would have been to send a bullet whizzing after her. She knew that danger was ever present. He was the sort of desperado that burned all his bridges after him. He would not let her get away, leaving him there without a mount, riding off to tell the nearest pros- pector. When the time came for Ladley to dis- card her, he would discard something that could tell no tales! They jogged on, at a much slower rate now, for the sand was fine and deep, and the weight of two riders made a big differ- ence. It was now the hottest part of the aiter- noon. The girl herself began to feel the effects of the heat, and of the salt mist. But she did not dare to reach for her flask now. She could reach for nothing. He was watching her like a hawk. A suspicion had taken hold of him, a sort of persecution mania. Only it was not, precisely speaking, a mania. It was the truth, Everything he suspected about her was true. And every mile of trail they plowed through heightened that crazed fear, that she was, after all, tricking him. The fact of the matter was that in his torture of. thirst and spirit ‘his pride was gradually being smothered. He began to believe that that girl could not possibly have consented to ride away to Mexico with a killer. This began to ferment in his mind, mingling with his other torment like the recurrent image of a hideous vision in a long fever. He would watch her, watch her as a cat hovers near a mouse. The slightest confirmation, and he would draw his gun and pay her back. That gun was one thing he watched now —like a miser in a land of thieves con- stantly feeling for his bag of gold. If the heat blinded him too much, a stealthy fem- inine hand might reach back and strip him of his one last symbol of mastery. CORMICGLOOOKS (C@