Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 2, 1922 — page 79: what you’re looking at

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

RED DARKNESS. 549 Dan Martin looked evasively through the trees toward the begrimed and scaling turpentine still. “You didn’t know, suh? You didn’t know young Mista Teddy was runnin’ round after dat wicked gal?” “Oh, no! Ted Banning—Jazzabelle?”’ “'Yassuh, da’s whut Ah means.” Javalie wrinkled his lips as if he had tasted alum. “ Has he been over here?” “ Yassuh—three or fo’ times.” ‘‘ What happened?”’ “ Nothin’, suh—nothin’. He wanted to — take Jazzabelle out in dat big yalla cah of hisn.” Javalie snorted. ‘“ Wouldn’t she go with him?” “No, sw. She was skeered of his pop- pa, Ah was the one whut skeered her, holy man. She was fixin’ to go out wid him; but I tol’ her Mista Banning would sho’ clap de skids on her. One mo’ time an’ she’d done gone. Da’s why Ah say, you dunno how happy Ah am. ’At missy of his, whut dey calls Mme. Jeanne—nevah wasn’t no nicer lady nowheh. No, suk!” They were crossing the railroad tracks now. Ahead of them, over the scrub palmettos and hummocks of yellow sand, the house of Banning blazed in the brilliance of a noon sun. In the intense white light of midday it had a different character; it was like a mirage seen over a desert, a trick of heat waves and aérial reflections. The blue tile roof radiated a more splendid blue than the dancing sea beyond. The foliage of the gardens summoned images of playing foun- tains, of strolling ladies with curly ink-black hair and satiny tallow skins, ravishing crea- tures with blood-red roses at their ears, and gorgeous scarfs about their lovely, dis- dainful shoulders—daughters of some arro- gant Moorish conqueror. “This wind does blow from Grenada!” Dan Martin glanced at him in perplexity. He was saying, he repeated, that Mr. Teddy ought to be ashamed. Mme. Jeanne was, or had been, the one bright and happy spot in the house. The servants, himself in- cluded, loved her—she was such a little thing! She never said a quick word to any one. And the life she led could hardly be imagined. Mr. Teddy ignored her or cursed her; she was weeping in her room most of the time. Mr. Banning shouted at her; Miss Nanette was mean to her. From a happy little butterfly of a person she had been reduced to a drooping moth. ‘Cryin’ to husse’f all de time. Slinkin’ about dat big grand house lak a kitten whut come up to be petted and ‘got kicked instead. Yessuh. And dat Jazzabelle! H’m-m-m-m-mh! Holy man, you do mo’ good in one minnit den mos’ folkses do in a lifetime, and das so!” “Dan,” said Javalie decisively, “I want you to find Mr. Teddy and send him to me. I'll be down by the beach. Tell him I want to see him. If he is asleep, wake him up.” “* Yassuh! too!” Javalie went around by the porte- cochére. A Sunbeam landaulet, painted the color of new rifle steel, was standing by the steps with a chauffeur in the driver’s seat in blue whipcord to match. There was a crest in gold, silver and black on the door. Javalie glanced at it, but at- tached no significance to the unicorn ram- pant on’a field of glossy black. He was thinking of other things. The chauffeur eyed him with a gaping incredulity until Javalie passed from sight around a turn. But Javalie was plunged too deeply in thought to notice him. His hypocritical role of redeemer in the colored Baptist Church had seemed to dislodge something inside of him. The memory of Jazzabelle with blood at her lips as she had pitched to her knees in the pine needles was almost intolerably oppressive. His heart was beat- ing sharply with an irrepressible resent- ment. That beautiful, evil face—stricken! Beaten to earth by juju rhythm; driven to her knees by the stage mechanics of a translated Voodooism! Evil incarnate, ar- tistically perfect, trampled under fox-trot- ting black feet! What was this morbid pull she exerted upon him? Why this furious sizzling in his brain pan? Oh, damn the girl! But he could not dismiss her, or the other mem- bers of this unconventional triangle,. so. simply. Ah’m gwine pray fo’ you, COMIC OOOKS COM. ep “ and . - 7 — >. = * ~