Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 3 — page 105: what you’re looking at

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

PRIDE OF TYSON. “Why, what do you mean by saying that, Edward? You know perfectly well that they don’t allow the peons in the hotel. Only the upper class Mexican gentlemen are permitted to register!” “ Mexican gentlemen?” snapped Garth. “ There isn’t such an animal; only differ- ence is in their clothes.” “1’m sure I could stand them for the few days I’m here,” said the girl.. There was a finality about that speech which stopped Garth’s retort. Only a dull rage against the world possessed him. “You'll take me down there after break- fast?” she was inquiring of him. “ Té you want to go,” he answered. “ Of course.” ‘hen he wanted to curse himself. If she had to leave, why eouldn’t he be grace- ful about it? He was showing his hand disgracefully, he felt. And he saw that a thousand impalpable barriers were still between them. He wanted to lean across the table and smash those barriers with a single gesture, and take her hand. Why not? Why not out with it, and tell her that he loved her at once? He glowered dewn at his cereal bowl, and then stabbed the spoon into it. Everything in the warld was wrongly arranged. He had brought her these thousands of miles across the continent, and here he had lost her in an instant. His own mother was sufficiently to blame for that; be could feel her exultation as she sat. with her downward eyes upon the table. And Margaret? He felt always the cool, survey of her eyes, her aloofness. The same sense of shame flooded. up hotly m him, ‘which he had felt when Tyson himself re- - fused to dine at Garth’s house. Pride! That was the secret of it all. The accursed peide af the Tysons! Then it happened with the suddenness of thunder out of a blue sky. Rapid feet leaped up the steps to the front door, a hand beat heavily and rapidly, there were loud, excited voices in the hall. And now a white-faced man raced into the diming- room. He was one of the foremen. “Mr. Garth,” he cried, oblivious of all the ethers. “Gas, gas in No. 4 tunnel! Five men were caught, and—” Death had stepped into the room. 387 He and stepped for lack of breath. He had run a long distance. Garth had risen, and the sudden straight- ening of his legs sent his chair reeling back- ward and crashing to the floor. ““ Hell!” he said fiercely. “‘ Why wasn’t I called on the phone?’’ | “Phone?” The eyes ef the other wan- dered helplessly. “1 didn’t think—”’ “Five men in the tunmel?” the words came snapping out. “No, we got out four, and then the gas drove us back. The other poor devil may be dead now—” “« José!” thundered Gaath. Margaret Tyson and Mrs. Garth has risen, staring, white-faced, at each other. And his sleeves. He was like one prepared to wrestle for his life. All the self-conscious- ness which bad entangled him as he sat at the table was now gone. He was fire, clear-eyed, firm-voiced. And Margaret Ty- son, wondering, watched hin. Ske caught ber first glimpse of the man her brother had prepared her to see. ‘« José!” roared Garth again. A Mexican mozo flashed imto. the door- way. “The car. Get it out! about it! Bringyit to the front.” No confusion of thought. His mind worked clearly and easily. He was meeting the danger. He strode for the doer, and Margaret hurned after him, following an “ Miss Tyson!” cut in the sharp voice of Mrs. Garth. “ There aim’t anything you can do. Let the men folks handle it.” But Garth, at the door, whirled on his _ heel and swept ber from head te heel with a glance such as had never passed over her in her life before. It probed her, measured her, summed her up in one flash of insight. “ D’you knew anything about asphyxia- tion?” he snapped. “Yes,” she answered quietly. And she felt her heart rise. “Fhen yeu come with me. EF may rieedl you.” He added: ‘ There’s the car now.” Be damned fast — MALKClLOOO ci) (A) riginal from THE C 10 STATE Tha. = S C@