Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 5, 1921 — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

364 turned her eyes to him wistfully. She had showed her cards face upward when he asked and she waited now for his commen- dation. Her untrained heart had lifted hopefully to his words, she read a promise where none was made. When he said nothing she put out her hand and touched him timidly. ‘“T can see how wrong I was, Billie. I didn’t know how to make you love me. I suess it was because 1 loved you too much. Can’t you forget her? What if she’s made you think she cared! ‘There’s a hundred men in the world for her, but there's only you—-for me.” But he shook his head. ‘She doesn’t care for me. It wouldn't make any difference in my feelin’ for you. I never thought about you, that way. Why do you make me say these things, Brit- ches? A man can’t tell a woman that he don’t love her. I feel like I ought to he, an’ say I do, but I couldn’t fool you. An’ T don’t want to. You’ve got to promise me you'll break away from the Camberwell outfit for good. Move along with your old man down to the Border. but it’s better than this. I'll help you all 1 can, but for God’s sake get out of this. The boys suspicion you. It wouldn’t take much to start trouble and you’d fare hard. They take it bad that you’ve turned yel- low, Britches. You see, everybody trusted you.” He was urging her to go away—-to leave the range they both loved and where they had been happy. She looked for anything but this—distance placed between them at his desire. “ But I can't go,” she stammered. “ It is because I love you-—I love you!” He saw tears in her eyes—the slow hit- ter tears that come from the heart. Her mouth twitched. Suddenly her youth and beauty was eclipsed and she was old. Cen- turies of women spoke through her, plead- ing for love that was denied them. ‘“T Jove you,’ she repeated monoton- ously, then she added in despair, “Is it because IT ain’t played square, Billie? You think you can’t trust me any more?” “Tt ain’t that,’’ he answered gently. After a long pause he said: ‘ }]’m goin’ to It’s bad enough ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. explain if 1 can, Britches, lettin’ you see my cards like I said I would. Maybe it’ll all come plain to you like it does to me. The way I look at love is somethin’ like this. You’re not made complete.in the beginnin’—there’s an empty place in all of us, that is cryin’ out to be filled—and it wants somethin’ different from the rest, some offset to the nature you started out with. Folks like you an’ me are too much alike, Britches; we’ve got nothin’ to offer each other, no surprises. You can rope in a steer and break in a bronco as good an’ better than I can, an’ [ll swear I can beat you cookin’. Love wouldn’t mean any sur- prises between us. We jog along like any ordinary cow-punchers, both lackin’ the same thing till we died. What you’ve done or not done ain't the question. I’m no angel myself. I’ve done a lot of things that wouldn’t make good readin’ in the Sunday School books, so you needn’t hang your head so when you're talkin’ to me, Britches.” She said with a woman’s faith: “J don’t believe you ever did anybody wrong, Billie.” | ‘‘ Maybe nothin’ to be jailed for, but there’s a lot of things the law don’t take notice of but that’s chalked up against you just the same. It was goin’ across that made me see, Britches. I was just an ordin- ary, ramblin’ sort of a cuss. I didn’t want _ to settle down anywheres. I didn’t want any responsibility—like them whitefaces that ain’t paid for yet. J wanted to draw my money once a month and blow it in at a settin’. I thought that was big time stuff, but it was just dern foolishness. I ranged from Texas to Montana full of them ideas; I didn’t know any straight women and mighty few men that wasn’t crooked. ‘“ After awhile I got to thinkin’ of myself on one side of the fence with this sort, and the rest of the world on .the other side, sort of givin’ us the once over. That was gettin’ me, Britches. Then along come the fight, and I jammed in, naturally. At first it was just for the fun of the thing—the target shootin’ and a white man’s desire to be in the ring. Then I begun to get somethin’ else out of it. Girl, I can’t tell you just how the difference was... Vd teen .quttam