Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 7, 1928 — page 124: what you’re looking at

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

114 porarily diverted by news of the latest escapade of the mysterious Black Parson. “That boy’s a lulu, sure!” chuckled Seth. “ Always plays the lone hand. This time he came right into this county, bold as a lion, with Sheriff Kemp sittin’ on the job and layin’ for just such fellers as the Parson. “Nobody can tell how or when he got on the train, but a lictle bit west of Bitter Springs he made the express messenger jump off, so’s he could go through the packages in the express car. “Then, sir, he walked right into the first passenger car, cool as a horned toad, made his apologies to all the pas- sengers for disturbin’ *em, and ap- pointed a committee of two to collect the valuables and cash. “Most of the men was armed, I reckon, but nobody dared draw a long breath, say nothin’ of a gun. He held "em, they say, like one o’ them mes- merizers in the theater, all of ’em look- in’ pop-eyed right into the muzzles of his long six-guns. “The fool conductor took too long to make up his mi d, when the Parson told ‘im to pull the bell rope and stop the train, ar? the Parson put a bullet through one of his eyes, after tellin’ 7em that’s what he’d do.”’ “TI wonder if any one believes, now, that I saw him hold up the stage?” mused Norman. “Course you saw ‘im!” declared Seth heartily. “I believe it, for one. I don’t think you’re the kind to lie about it, and—what’s more, I don’t think you’re the kind to butcher two good-natured fellows like them on the stagecoach. You and Browne, here, don’t look it—specially Browne.” Ronald flushed self consciously. “T don’t think I could even develop into a bad man,” he said with a naive gravity that brought a grin to the mobile face of Seth Corwin. “ T believe the men of my family are—a little hot tempered, but—” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. His berserker madness in the Little Alamo episode, as described to him re- peatedly by Norman, seemed to prey upon his mind as he reviewed it, and his friend found a quaint pathcs in his growing anxiety about inherited ten- dencies toward vicious instincts. In- herently mild and conscientious, his mind went back a thousand years to seek the source of his savagery in wild Saxon ancestry. The blind father of Althea Lane was permitted to visit her daily for brief periods, but Corwin reported that he behaved like a lost soul, deprived of the solace of her companionship. Nor- man saw him ..equently from the win- dow, wandering disconsolately along the street, tapping with his walking stick to pick his way over inequalities of ground and among the other pedes- trians. Most of the people made way for him considerately, but Buxton’s cow- boys had lately included him in their hostility toward his daughter with un- reasoning prejudice. The burly and overbearing Red Jukes suddenly kicked a small crate in front of him as he passed the general store, causing him to trip before the groping stick discovered it, and he sprawled in a painful tumble at full length on the plank walk, losing his stick and the smoked glasses that he usually wore to conceal the unpleasant glassy stare of his wide open eyes. Other passers-by rebuked the bully as much as they dared, and hastened to lift Bill Evans to his feet, brush the dust from his clothing, and recover his stick and spectacles, but he displayed no conspicuous resentment. ‘The in- dignant watchers at the jail window saw him smile and thank the ones who aided him, and go patiently on his way. “Tt’s a good thing he’s got some- thing to do while his girl’s locked up,” observed Seth Corwin. “What?” Norman riously. “Since the girl quit her job at the inquired cu- Gomichbooks s (E@)