Argosy, Vol. 120, No. 1 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

—_ 46 THE ARGOSY. | luckiest fellow alive. _I—I envy him—you. God, I do envy him!” Marta laughed musically, though her eyes were frightened. ‘So that’s my hermit of this morning! Oh, Dean, Frazier Dean, be careful. You're slipping. The gay old world will get you yet!” Dean’s brown face whitened slowly and his eyes lost their dancing light. His mouth pressed into a grim, hard line, and he rose Suddenly. “ SOO DIGI, he said abruptly. He turned quickly toward the companion- way and disappeared without one backward glance. Marta, sobered by his expression, fright- ened, stared after him blankly. Then call- ing his name, she rose and moved to follow him. At the door she halted, undecided. Her cheeks were burning red, and she looked close to tears. She turned into the saloon slowly, her fin- gers tearing at her crumpled lace handker- chief. — | Without any warning she sank down be- side the table and buried her head in her arms. Her shoulders shook painfully. | Dean looked very grim as he went on deck. The color had not yet returned to his cheeks, and his eyes glowed somberly. Burchard was nowhere about, and he did not want to see him. He went directly to the rail and stared down. The tender was bobbing alongside the short Jacob’s ladder, and a sailor sat in it, fending it off the yacht’s painter with an oar. Dean dropped overside as unexpected & as a meteor. — Before the fellow in the boat had time to speak, Dean had cast loose the painter. ‘“‘ Put me ashore,” he said briefly, and his voice made the words more threat than order. The tender moved across the half-mile of water toward the beach as if it were racing. Once the oarsman hesitated when a hail came from the yacht. Burchard was shout- ing Dean’s name, shouting it with a fright- ened emphasis. ' ““ Keep right on,” said Dean quietly, and the oars dipped again. He sprang out on the sand, and the ten- der turned about, dancing back toward. the yacht against the swells and the headwind. Dean walked slowly up the beach. His head drooped, and his hands were clenched, — hanging limp at his side. He breathed like a man who had run a hard mile. The cabin was very still. Flying parti- cles of sand tapped on its panes and the wind murmured down the chimney, but these were the normal sounds, sq long fa- miliar they were forgotten. It welcomed him like a sanctuary. In the dark he went directly to his big chair, wondering that he stumbled over so many tangled rugs and small objects foreign to the floor. He sat motionless, staring before him at the blackness, and a long time passed. Once he groaned like a man in bitter torment. Another might have cried out against the fate that had brought all this unhappiness; or even reproached Marta Kree, who had plainly done all in her power to trap his at- tention and his desire. Dean accepted the fact grimly, accepting his own share of the blame; aware that his instinct had warned him against an interest in her. Through the years he had feared but one thing—the coming of strangers. That had been a superstitious fear, the notion that the yellow metal hidden in his cabin would some day exert its strange magnetic force and draw into his life some roving adven- turer who must be dealt with by violence. He had not foreseen the coming of a woman who could breathe into flame passions he had quenched—who would have the power to touch him and vanish, and by her touch waken such a longing and loneliness as he had never before known. More terrible than he had dreamed it, Fate had stretched forth a commanding hand and brought his world of peace and contentment crashing into chaos where he wandered alone, without a light to guide him, conscious only of a great hurt. Not even his old habit of sitting quiet while his keen mind reasoned things out and adjusted life held good now. He rose in a torment of impatience and began to move about, scarcely conscious of any intention. That brought him back to reality with a COIN (-) lOOOKS. EO