Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 4 — page 123: what you’re looking at

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

PRIDE OF TYSON. | 629 The secretary beside him called sudden- ly: “The water! It comes! The gates, Mr. Garth!” And far up the valley they saw, clearly, with the morning sunlight upon its face, a downward rushing wall of water, dark brown, carrying great trees in its fore- front as easily as sticks and straw. Two yards high, it swept on with an increasing murmur. “Now!” pleaded the secretary. “ May I give the order? May I send out the men to the gates?” “Let this rush of water go,” answered Garth, straining his eyes toward the priest. ‘* It’s hard, but what does an hour’s flow of water amount to? It’s the padre! Can he hold them in spite of the flood?” For now the wall of water, striking the broader cafion just before the dam, spread with innumerable foamy rushings, and the sound of its voice went in a deep roar up to the office. : ‘“Can he hold them?” repeated Garth. ‘‘ Can the padre keep them to their prayer? If he does, we have won! Listen!” There was a wavering and a lifting of bent heads in the crowd as the sound of the water poured up to them, but the padre stepped forward on his broad bulwark. They saw his arms stiffen. His head went farther back. They knew he was raising his voice and making it battle with the rush- ings of the water. And he conquered! For one by one, and by degrees, men who had risen to their knees to watch, dropped back to their at- titudes of devotion. They saw the movings of brown hands making the sign of the cross; peering more closely they could even make out lips that moved in the prayer. It held for a long moment, and then another sound rose. It began, thin and weird and sad with infinite distance, infinite yearning. At first it was something to be guessed, rather than known, like the voices and the choruses of the winter wind, but at length it grew, it gathered volume, the watchers and the list- eners around the big form of Garth heard now the unmistakable strains of “‘ La Pa- loma!” For another moment the strain gathered aitizes by Google volume slowly, and the padre was seen to be exerting every effort to keep his flock from listening—to hold them to their de- votions. It was vain. In a wave, every throat ‘in the crowd suddenly burst into song. Every devotee sprang to his feet. A swell. of mightily chorused singing swept up the valley side and burst about the walls of the office building. Patriotism had been cunningly blended with superstitious fear by him who started that singing, and the combination of the two elements was too much for the host of peons. Still the poor padre strove against the music, but all backs were turned to him. The song rose higher still, shrill] with an ecstasy of triumph. The Mexicans danced on the top of the broad dam. Their wide sombreros flared to and fro. They shrieked and called to the brown rush of precious water below; they struck each other over the shoulders in a nameless delight. San Vicente was saved, and a thorn was placed in the crown of the “ gringo ”! But Padre Miguel? He turned slowly away, at length, and made his way as slowly up the slope toward the little office building, followed by the three others as a sort of rear guard. Garth began to laugh, a thin sound like the laughter of an hysterical girl, and ter- rible coming from his great throat. He turned upon the group. ““My friends,” he. said, “I have lost. San Vicente is stronger than I!” | And he dropped heavily into his chair behind the desk and sat with his great head supported in both hands. Not a sound, then, from all the room; and the jubilant yelling from the dam surrounded them, with a keen note of barbarian triumph _ which roused Garth from his stupor of the moment. No blank stare in his eyes; but there rose in them a sharpening gleam of | the battling instinct. The door opened; Padre Miguel entered the room. His eyes encountered those of Garth, and his head failed. “ Senor,” he said, ‘I have been too weak.” — Big Garth rose and moved with that ease which told of -gfrength more than: the budg- THE OHIO STATE UOLRS EDO