Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 189, No. 4 — page 62: what you’re looking at

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

Do2 “TY do love you,” declared Georgia, still holding him tight. “ You’re licked,” he cried. giving in! Wait a weck! morrow!”’ “Tt isn’t necessary to wait a single sec- ond,” persisted the girl. “I’m not licked. I’m not giving in. Do you know why I cried the morning you fainted with your head in my lap? Because I hated myself for loving you!” ““Tt doesn’t make sense,” groaned Teddy Armbister. “ You’ve treated me like dirt! You couldn’t have loved me and kept me so miserable! You—you said love is noth- ing but a low-down, contemptible trick that Nature plays on people.” “Nature plays lots of dirty tricks on people, Teddy. Look at the hurricane! We weathered that, and if we weathered that, we can weather anything. Teddy, if we love each other, nothing is impossible. We'll pitch right in. We'll work like the THE “You're just Wait until to- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. devil. We'll have the most beautiful place in Florida!” Teddy shook himself. Somehow, this did not sound like the babbling of hysteria. Un- less he was badly mistaken, Georgia’s feet were on the ground; had probably never left the ground, except for a few excusable hours when she lay unconscious in the wreckage of her house and in the bunk on the Captain Kiddo. He shook himself and folded his arms ~ about her and looked down blissfully into her upturned face. It was no longer white and drawn. It no longer lacked emotion. Pink and radiant—it was flooded with emo- tion! Teddy experienced a dizzying sense of release. He seemed suddenly to be filled with a superhuman power. Thinking back over the black hours of the most recent past as he dropped his head to kiss her, he had a feeling of almost fatherly affection for the hurricane. END The greatest news story in history — Washington’s return to lifa—is described in “ The Return of George Washington,” starting October 15th. U U U INDIAN SUMMER HADY isles of birch and willow, Soft gray mosses for my pillow; Song of crickets and a smiling Harvest moon my dreams beguiling; Oh, it’s good to slip the tether When it’s Indian Summer weather. Distant low of restless cattle, Leaves that stir and boughs that rattle, Fleecy clouds the blue empearling, Smoke wreaths in the distance curling, Joy and peace make camp together When it’s Indian Summer weather. There’s a time for fame pursuing, Time for play and time for wooing, There’s for everything a season And rebellion would be treason. Woods and glades and copse and heather, These for Indian Summer weather. L. Mitchell Thornton. Gomichooks (E) ~