Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 4, 1926 — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

EXCITEMENT TRAIL, pathetically. ‘“ But how did you arrange things to fly the coop and not get caught at it, Senorita Rosita?” “Oh, but I love that!” she cried, clap- ping her hands delightedly. ‘‘ Fly the coop!’ Like a poor little pigeon that de- sires to try eets wings, eh, Senor Rus-tee? ‘“ But eet was so ver’ easy. Tia Maria has after dinner one of her seek headaches. That ees what she calls them. But, oh, I know well those seek headaches. Aiways they come when Tia Maria has too much wine for dinner. She must go ver’ queek into her bed, and there she stays, does thees poor old Tia Maria—how do you call eet —dead to the earth.” ‘““T bet she is,” Rusty chuckled encourag- ingly. ‘“ So,” Rosita went on with a demure smile, ‘‘ when Tia Maria’s jaw hangs limp and her eyes have the glassy stare, I know my chance has come. Like a mouse I sleep away. Tia Maria weel not wake till morn- ing, and my father and Don Enrique weel not return till after midnight. ‘But on the streets, senor, I so soon find eet ees not as I expect.” All the raillery dropped from the girl’s voice; her face grew sober, and she shud- dered. “Oh!” she gasped. ‘ But eet was ter- rible, senor! Those girls-of the streets, with their cruel, hard, painted faces! And the way they look at me. The men, too, Senor Rus-tee! ‘““ Of a suddenness all the joy seenks from my heart, and I become afraid. I lose my weesh to stay among these people who cele- brate the fiesta. Queek I try to return to the house where snores that Tia Maria. My elbow ees grabbed by a horrible man who smirks evilly upon me: These other people —what do they care, for ees eet not a fiesta, when one theenks only of pleasure? ‘“‘T pull myself away, and fly so queekly down a dark, narrow street. Even the dark- ness, senor, ees less horrible than the glare of lights. Thees awful man, he comes run- ning after me. I am seek weeth fear, for I cannot escape him. ‘But then comes to my help thees brave American cow-punch’, thees Senor Rus-tee, like a gallant caballero. So senor,” her 301 black-fringed eyes dropped demurely, “ I no longer am afraid.” There was something about this beauti- ful young Mexican that vaguely puzzled Rusty. She talked freely to him with an air of frank comradeship which could not be reconciled with the cloistered life forced by custom and convention on girls of her class. Save for her dark, rich beauty, her de- lightful little mannerisms, and the quaint- ness of her speech, Senorita Rosita might well have been an American girl. <A pos- sible explanation occurred to Rusty. ‘“You’ve been to school in the States, haven’t you, senorita?” he asked. ‘““Si, senor—at a convent school in the city of angels—Los Angeles, you call eet. There I learn to speak the English.” Rusty rolled a cigarette, and lighted it, - regarding her dreamily through the smoke haze. The hubbub of the fiesta came dimly to them, its harshness softened by distance. They had the world to themselves. ‘““T like thees, Senor Rus-tee,”’ she smiled at him. “ Eet ees pleasant, thus to be weeth a friend, one so brave and strong to protect the weak.” A sudden feeling of guilt oppressed Rus- ty Towers—a fear of trouble for the girl as a result of her remaining out in his com- pany. | ‘ Perhaps I ought to be taking you home, senorita,” he suggested. “If your father, Don Eugenio—”’ ‘““Ees eet then that you so queekly tire of me, Senor Rus-tee?” Rosita asked roguishly. ‘‘ Ah, senor!” Her voice car- ried a world of sorrowful reproach. “That wasn’t it at all,’ Rusty stam- mered, aghast that she had so fatally mis- understood his meaning. “ I’d be proud to sit here forever with you, only I—” Rusty broke off; his distress was obvious. ‘Ah, but I understand,” the girl cried in swift contrition. ‘‘ Ket ees that I but tease you, amigo mio. You forgive me? I am ver’ sorry to hurt -you.” “That’s all right,” Rusty. grinned. “Only you did have me guessing for a minute.” Rusty’s heart was thumping furiously— strange phenomenon for him—who had al- GEomichbooks (Ge)