Argosy All-Story Weekly — "The Purple Limited" — page 61: what you’re looking at

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

JUNGLE LOVE. F. Pleased t-to meetcha. Sure we're married.” os ’ “Yes, married to a sneaking pick- pocket.”’ The two-dollar bill thrust at him by the girl had thrown Artie off his balance. He had taken a mental degenerate’s delight in handing her part of the money he had stolen from ber. at the Mog; but, how did she know for certain this was the actual bill? How could she be so positive that this was the bill that had been one of the small roll taken from her bag? When Julie had shown her proof, Artie had glanced out of the porthole, and notic- ing that the dock side was slipping past, he knew that he could afford to save him- self the trouble of further dissembling. Julie ceuld say what she liked, but she couldn’t get away from him. So, with a - curse-seasoned grin he had admitted the truth and tried to smooth the affair over by expressing his craziness for the girl, and boldly asserting that he had stolen the money to get her into his power. He had. But not for the purpose of marriage. The curse had been a silent one, for in his heart or what passed for that organ of misuse in hig narrow chest, Artie held a bitter graodge against Julie. He blamed her as his hoodoo, and looked upon her as re- sponsible for all the trouble that had come upon him and driven him from his favo- rite haunts. Not yet did he want to part with her who was his wife, therefore— “We're spliced!” he had elegantly re- iterated. “Don’t forget that. You're wearing my ring.” “Your ring? This badge of shame! Yes, I'll wear it and I'll continue to do so, as a protection from you and the talkers.” “ Hot air! A lotta talk, that’s all there is to that,” had opined Artie. — #» But Julie had seen the matter different- ly, and with surprising firmness. Unlike the woman who wore a scaflet letter as a badge of shame, Julie kept her ring in token of her inviolateness. It ‘was to be the sign of an impassable barried protect- ing her from Artie, and a deterrent to gos-. sip from others. “This ring,” she had said, holding up her finger, “stands for just one thing— 627 one. I’m Mrs. Falwell; but I’m not your wife, and never will be, except in name. You come near me and I'll scratch your eyes out. I want another cabin. If I don’t get it I'll tell—I’ll tell the captain. I'll tell everybody about you and what you've done. You can say I’m sick, any- thing; but I won’t stay here. I’d rather be shut in with a—with a mad dog. You're drunk now. Oh! I can’t tell you what you are. What is the meaning of it all?” ‘““You’ve got me,” had grunted Artie with a leer of solemn mockery. “ But w- Why worry? slap-up honeymoon, eh?” ‘“ Stay right where you are!” ‘had cried the girl when Artie: attempted to come a step nearer. From the moment when she had heard his talk with Sid and discovered that two- dollar bill, he had typified in her concep- tion of him all that meant meanness and lew trickery. Then had come a deeper, unexpressible sense of utter loathing. He Claimed her as his wife. She was a girl, Alone! She shrank with a dread almost equal to her fear of Artie, from raising a cry for help and causing a scene. Strange men and women would flock to the cabin door.’ Reports would be printed. All her story would be made public. If she left the boat at the next port, return would be impossible, her history would follow her. It would not lose by being repeated. Her job at the office would be gone, and she would be cast adrift to swim or—sink. . The situation had to be met by sheer will-power. Everything had to be done quietly, and this man was to be held at bay; dominated by a personality greater than his own. Did he fear exposure more than she her- . self did? It was a remote possibility, and her only hope. Artie was impervious to words of contempt; careless and indifferent to the hate and repulsion she felt welling from her being as a burning flame. The only thing to do was to be cold. Icily aloof. To, hold her temper. Check her passionate desire to scream, tear and rend. | It had been a big part to play, and the effort left the girl a wreck of nervous en- CGOMIIGoOO We'll have a good trip. A’ S CO