Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 23, 1924 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

: . POR Vie ae ee NET EAS yreae af é 7 < r ' 226 Midnight’s eyes were red with fury. He was expressing his hatred of the quirt. There in the box stall the afternoon before he hadn’t a chance to fight back. Bassett’s _blows had fallen upon him from above. They had been cunning blows that the confined space had helped to make accu- rate. He couldn’t dodge or otherwise avoid them. But now he was in the open, where he was able to fight back. He meant to kill. As he reared upward and struck at Jane with his fore hoofs his head and neck formed a sinuous, serpent- like line. The leaping, writhing muscles of his body expressed malignance. Jane’s retreating steps had taken her out of Midnight’s reach, away from the sweep of his avenging hoofs. When he came down and leaped forward after Jane, she was in Bassett’s arms. Channing had leaped in, but he couldn’t ? have saved Jane. The two punchers were still some distance away when Bassett, sweeping Jane behind him, stepped out to confront Midnight. Midnight hadn’t seen Bassett until now. At sight of him he reared back, halted. Then with a squeal of triumphant rage he leaped forward. Bassett’s right hand went to his hip. A stream of fire started from his side and struck Midnight’s chest. At the second re- port of Bassett’s weapon Midnight halted and set his forelegs wide, bracing himself. Three other lancelike streaks shot from Bas- sett’s side, and Midnight, balked of his ven- geance, collapsed. Bassett’s face was chalk white. His hand shook when he sheathed the six-shooter. But he turned to Jane, who was leaning against the wall of the stable, and put an arm around her shoulders. “Tt’s all right, Jane,’ he soothed; ‘he won’t bother you any more.” “Oh!” she said weakly. She laid her head on Bassett’s shoulder and clung to him, shuddering. Channing stood, several feet distant, staring glumly downward, ashamed, disgraced. The two punchers had halted, their faces were blank. Some little time elapsed before anything was said or done. Bassett, with Jane in his arms, would not have moved. But at ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, last Jane stood erect, freed herself. There was no color in her cheeks; her eyes were wide with horror. She swayed when she started to walk away, and threw an appealing glance at Bassett. “* Sure,” he said; “‘ you want to get away from here. Ill take you up to the house.” He hadn’t taken more than half a dozen steps with Jane when he halted, turned. “Channing,” he said, accusingly; ‘ this is what comes of your way of doin’ things without askin’ questions. It’s the first time I ever heard of any man tryin’ to gentle a man killer for a woman to ride!” Channing said nothing. Bassett con- tinued to lead Jane toward the house, CHAPTER IX. PUBLISHING THE BANNS. HE killing of Midnight by Bassett had seemed to end the little intimacy that had sprung up between Channing and Jane. He saw her seldom, and then only at a distance. But Channing’s disappointment was somewhat assuaged by little Eve’s manner toward him. During the days when Bassett was with Jane, Eve passed many hours with the man who, to her, was invested with ro- mance. Sitting on Channing’s knee late one after- noon in the shade of the foreman’s shanty, the child touched Channing’s cheek with‘ an investigating finger. ‘“‘ Channing,” she said—for he had taught her to drop the prefix “ mister,”’ which he told her was not much used in the country, ‘“‘why do your cheeks always turn red like that when you see mother?” “ Shucks, they don’t!” he denied, the cheeks in question becoming crimson. “You don’t know?” she questioned. **T reckon not.” She gazed gravely at him. “I wish my cheeks would get red like that.” “They’re mighty nice, right now,” he declared, hugging her to him. “ They’re a heap better than they was when you came. Why, they’ve got a lot more color in them than they had!” EOPMIC LOO KS (E@)