Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 18, 1928 — page 102: what you’re looking at

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

900 walls seemed in her agony to take on the lineaments of his face in gross mockery. A tottering old sexton shuffled by bear- ing in his hand a lighted taper. The lights pulsed and gleamed, and the fading of day crept almost imperceptibly into the ca- thedral of sorrows. From outside, the blare of a marching band leading a regiment of the newly land- ed army of occupation to its quarters shat- tered the stillness with triumphant pzans. An old woman arose front her knees in a neighboring pew and paused uncertainly beside Patria. She touched Patria, fear- fully. “May the Lord comfort you, my child,” she whispered. “‘ We have sacrificed together in the hour of Mexico’s need and pain. We must give more yet. .We can withhold noth- ing. We must give all!” She turned in scorching, unreasoning an- ger toward the band and the troops that tramped by the open door, trembled as though with palsy, clenched her withered fists, and shook them at the sound. Her voice became a croak, dripping with hate: ‘“ Hark to the scream of the gold-worship- ing Eagle! Joy at our misery! Would that I had a thousand sons to cram the unholy sounds downs your brass throat! Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!” And she broke piteously down, sank feebly into the seat beside the girl. “My sons!” she cried. “‘ My sons! My husband!” The searing, poignant grief of the wom- an and the magnetizing spiritual fabric of the hour and the place had its effect. Pa- tria’s sobs were suddenly hushed. There came into her being the fortifying substance of determination. ‘The image of Stephen Nelson vanished, and to her galvanized mind the church grew suddenly alight. She placed a protec- tive arm about the wasted and poorly clad figure of the woman beside her. ‘“‘ Mother,” she said, ‘“ you have helped me more than you can ever know. I was wavering in a duty; I was allowing my own selfish desires to turn me aside from what I should do. Now you must let me help you.” From her purse she took a roll of bills ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. and pressed them into the thin hand of the old woman. ‘Please take this,” she asked. ‘I have ample for myself. You are serving Mexico to-day beyond understanding. Your blessed dead shall be comforted.” An hour later Patria went to her room and sent for her servant. When Simores arrived she smiled upon him with a new light in her eyes. ‘‘ Rafael,” she emotionally announced, “you were right. I have been remiss in my duties, but I am myself again. What- ever happens to me does not matter. Here- after, I have nothing in my heart but the will to serve Mexico. ‘“And though I must continue more and more to beguile what I may from the Gringo officers, you must not mind. You must help me. And when our enemies are thrown out of the country and the flag we serve flies again over Vera Cruz, if we live I will marry you!” CHAPTER XIX. TIPPING A MILLIONAIRE. ITH the coming of the army to Vera Cruz the navy folded its metaphorical tents and stole away, back to the ships. The early exciting days of conquest and occupation were gone. Rou- tine of guard and search duty was not en- tertaining, shore quarters were uncomfort- able, so the sailormen were glad to return to their floating homes. From all directions columns of sailors about to reémbark concentrated upon the wide expanse of the Sanidad Pier, beside which waited scores of boats from the fleet. Navy tugs puffed and grunted from pier to vessel with decks high-piled with heavy sup- plies and landing guns not now required for defenses. The marines who, save for the various ship guards, were to remain ashore with the army, were drawn up before the light tower as their departing messmates marched by in review. The rifles of the sea-soldiers tippled to salute and the passing ships’ flags dipped in acknowledgment of the honor. GEomichooks (E(0)