Argosy All-Story Weekly — "The Purple Limited" — page 166: what you’re looking at

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

132 “‘ What’s up?” demanded one of the men who was in the lead of the others. ‘Hold him!” Turner repeated frantical- ““ He—he’s crazy!” The man looked at Turner’s purple, swol- len face, and then up at Bert. Before he could ask his question, Bert answered him. “I’m just giving this dog an open-hand- ed licking,” he explained. ‘ I’m not nearly through yet, so stand back. It takes longer to do a good job when you can’t close your fists; and I can’t use my fists on him because he won't fight back like a man. Watch!” As he spoke, he reached down and caught Turner by the scuff of the neck and, with an upward heave, brought him to his feet; then his hand went flying outward again, and Turner was sent reeling back into the midst of the men behind him. A thin stream of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. ‘““ Great God!” screamed Turner, looking wildly to his men. ‘‘ Why—don’t you—do something? Hold him! Beat him!. That’s it—beat him! [I'll fix it all right—with all of you—if you—beat him.” “Why don’t you do it yerself?” sneered - the man who seemed tobe the foreman. ‘You ain’t no cripple, an’ the kid’s fightin’ fair.” He directed his gaze over and be- yond Bert, toward the clearing. “ Here comes a bunch. Maybe they'll take up your dirty offer!” _ The “ bunch ” to which he referred was the Selma Board of Selectmen, Sheriff War- ren and Ruth, who had driven into the clearing a moment before, and were now. hastening across the field to the scene of. the unusual combat. They had arrived in time to see how fairly Bert had fought his battle with Tur- ner, scorning the use of his fists on the coward; they had heard Turner’s loath- some offer to his men, and had perceived the scorn with which it was received. y, Now, as they joined the group of work- men surrounding Turner and Bert, even the lips of Cass Bidwell were curled with utter contempt. Turner had dropped to his knees again. He knew that Bert would not strike him if he was not standing. In his frenzy of ly. said quietly. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. physical terror he did not realize the ig- nominy of his position; he did not realize, as did Cass Bidwell, that he was a fallen idol, a broken, shattered idol that could never rise again. Kneeling there, his fear so abject that it shook his body and set his lips to whimpering, he realized only that the coming of these men, with Sheriff Warren among them, might bring him pro- tection. ‘“* For God’s sake, sheriff,” he cried, pass- ing his shaking hand across his bloody lips, “get that—lunatic! He—he’s trying to— to murder me!” ‘Yes; arrest him!” echoed Bidwell, glowering upon Bert. ‘Arrest him, sheriff!” Bert turned to face the sheriff. Ruth was | standing at his side, but Bert seemed not- to let his gaze include her as he addressed her father. ‘““T haven’t finished with this whining puppy yet,” he said, indicating Turner; “but if you’ve come to take me back, Ill finish it some other time.” — For a moment Warren was silent. He looked at Turner, at Bert, and, finally, straight into the eyes of Cass Bidwell. His hand fumbled to his breast under his coat, and then he extended his hand, with the sherifi’s star lying in its palm. “T reckon I’m through here, Cass,” he ‘“‘T ain’ makin’ no more ar- rests.” = “You mean to say you—you're quit- ting?” sputtered Bidwell. He felt as if the world were slipping from under his feet. Turner crawling on his knees; the sheriff following the disastrous example of Noah Spigot; and the Board of Selectmen there to see it all! ‘Tm quittin’,” Warren affirmed steadily. ‘“1’m through sharin’ in the crookedness of Ellis Turner an’ you, an’ everybuddy Tur- ner’s made ‘to work fer ’im.” ‘“ All right then,” Bidwell shouted in a sudden rage engendered by his helplessness, snatching the glittering star from Warren’s palm and dropping it -iato his pocket. ‘Hand over your gun, Warren. I'll make this here arrest myself.” ‘“T didn’t bring no gun,” said Warren. ‘“T got no right to carry it, ’cause I been (C(O) nn ”) (C(O) nn