Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 3 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

304 ten times as far.” Then, setthng back and lighting a cigarette: ‘“‘ But let me hear why you bave brought me, if you wish.” _ “ She spoke. the truth,” nodded the padre gravely. “ You are not like others. I am the mare troubled. because that is true. Do you guess why I have sent for you?” “* There is only one possible reason. It is tHe girl It is Rema Carnahan? She is almost the only person who knows both you and me.” ““T am troubled because of her,” said the padre, and his clear eyes dwelt steadily on Tyson. “ And you have troubled me, sezor.” “T shall wager amy agreeable sum,” smiled Tyson, “that I have troubled you less than she has troubled me.” “T know, I know!” said the padve rather hastily. “But let us be quiet and think before we speak. I do not wish to rush into wards and offend you, seior.”’ And they sat in the silence. It was like the body of music to which the gentle voice of the padre had heen the prelude. The shadows slid steadily, quietly across the _ ground. The moss of the stones breathed its damp, cool atmosphere around the mind af Tyson; he could have believed that by clesing his eyes he would awaken in the Seventeenth century. He rallied himself with an effort. CHAPTER XXIX. _ CONCERNING TRUTH. HALL I speak what I imagine?” he Saki at last. ‘‘ You fear that 1 have seen too mach of the girl.” “Well?” queried the old man. It was like the clash of a metallic will against Tyson’s mind, that short, sharp word. “My dear padre,” chuckled Tysam, “‘ she is a child.” “You will not be angry. I fear this talk, but since I saw that my people love you, I know that you are right at heart. Rona is not a chiki. She is old enough to ride a horse, run like a man, sing like a bird—and love ike a woman.” A little flush sprang up in Tyson’s cheek. He had not thought ef the girl seriously, Digitized by Google ARGOSY¥-ALLSTFORY WEEKLY, but the good padre, unknowingly, was bringing new ideags and riveting ther heme in the mind of Tyson. He felt now a sense of guilt which had mot been with hive the moment before. “T am frank, you see,” he saidb “T understand you. But Rona wal be masried within a few days.” “Tt is an empty promise which is making her marry, sexor.” “ Padre Miguel,” said Tyson shasply, “do you approve of this fellow Kennedy? Have You given him your support with that unsophisticated girl?” “ He is not 2 very good mam,” acuaitted the padre, “but neither is he very bad. He 3 a simple man, se#or, and the simple heart may always be saved.” “ Padre,” smiled Tyson, “ you place a great trust in him.” “The priest changed color a little, but he answered with dignity. “You are not simple, se#or. You are youth, and yeuth is terrible and cruel. You are newer sail; your blood is fire. Amd Roma is tinder which a long sunamer has fired for flame.” _“ De you know,” murmured Tyson, “that the last time I was with that girl only the ringmg of your bell up here saved me from her knife?” | “IT know everything which has passed between you,” answered the old man, “ and it was not until she teld me that she had drawn the knife that I began to worry about Rone.” “ Pm afraid you have studied mote boaks than women, padre. Is i not so?” Padre Miguel Vega laid his brown hand on the arm of Tyson. “I am very serious, sesor.” Tyson could not reply. He felt guity, of what he knew not. - hell ioe shartly: what is the gint t your” Tyson looked inward. “ } do not know.” “The frend,” said the pedre, “ works in the dark.” “Come, come! The girl is to be-mar- ried. Do you think that I have the power “Would it cost you much,” pursued Padre* Miguel camesily. “to give me your word to see Rona no more?” . 0 forbid the bans?” <SriG@