Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

HEARTBREAK TRAIL, the pillow, and Reuel was startled at the whiteness of the shrunken and pinched features. ‘““Who’s that? Who’s Mr. Tris- tram?” Hetty asked faintly. Then, to their distress, she began to sing, in a voice that was scarcely more than audible. She breathed snatches of old sentimental ballads, going from one to another quite irrationally. “Where’s Reuel?” she demanded suddenly in a stronger voice. He gave a nervous start and took a step forward. Mrs. Roberts gently restrained him. “Tt will do no good to speak to her now,” she said. “‘ She wouldn’t know you. Sometimes she comes to herself after one of these spells.” “ Reuel!”’ called the sick girl, on a shrill but painfully appealing note, and he glanced at Mrs. Roberts and shuddered. “Why couldn’t Reuel love me?” Hetty demanded argumentatively. “ Why haven’t I as good a right as any one? Damn that Washington woman! Damn Governor Shannon and Pres- ident Pierce. Who’s Miss Washington anyhow ?—she’s going to hell with all the others—President Pierce and all! “My father—my dirty old father’s going to be the President, and I’m going to marry Reuel. Reuel’s mine! (ll fight for ’im! Tell that strumpet in Washington to come and fight me if she wants ’im.” “This,” murmured Reuel, catching at Mrs. Roberts’s arm, “is too fright- ful!’ “Tittle Hector’s dead!” shrilled the girl. “Old. -Frank=-Pierce -o ~New Hampshire shot ’im, so he couldn’t be President. Reuel can’t be President either—he belongs tome! I'll kill my- self if he goes to Washington to be President. I'll kill that woman and kill myself. Gran’ma says she’ll make me a charm to make Reuel love me— but she’s just an old barn owl; she’s got feathers and claws.” Her voice weakened suddenly, and 269 she began to hum a tune. Presently she stopped and lay quiet. “T think Ill slip away now,” Reuel whispered hoarsely. “Just a moment,” pleaded Mrs. Roberts. “ Hetty, are you awake?” “That you, Mrs. Roberts?” mur- mured the girl. “Mr. Tristram is here to see you, Hetty.” The small head turned again, and the fever-bright eyes sought the visitor’s face. “Mr. Tristram,” she breathed faintly, with the ghost of a welcoming smile. “ It—it’s kind of Mr. Tristram —to come.”’ “T was hoping to find you better, Hetty,” he said awkwardly. “I’m afraid you’re very tired and weak. I'll come again when you’re stronger.” “T’m not so sick,’ she whispered, “but—very tired. Thank you for coming.” “Tf there’s anything you want—if you'd care to send any word to your mother, [’1l—” “Send her my love,” she said, in a different tone. “Tell her I'll come home to see her when I’m well. Mrs, Roberts is really my mother, you know. What am I doing here, anyhow, Mr. Tristram? Where is this place? Is it Washington? Reuel’s in Washington, and—do you know Reuel, Mr. Tris- tram? Reuel’s my lover, and I’m his sweetheart in Washington.” “Come!” whispered Mrs. Roberts, and led him quickly out of the room, shutting the door softly behind them. “T’m so sorry, Mr. Tristram,” she said, as they paused in the little parlor of the apartment. ‘* You see, it does no good to come to see her; and she’s much worse to-night. I’m fearful of to-night, and Dr. Vincent said he’d come back and stay till morning, or—” “T know,” said Reuel shortly. “ It’s all horribly sad, Mrs. Roberts. You don’t know me well, but I know you are very kind, and I’d like to ask a particular favor of you.” COPMNICGLOOOKS (C@