Argosy All-Story Weekly, March 15, 1924 — page 31: what you’re looking at

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

THE CONFIDENCE (Maddox spitéfully. ‘“‘ The country’s driving you bugs. You stepped off into the sand here, and you can’t get out. Like quick- sand, that’s what-it is. An’ it’s gettin’ you.” | “ Get off the running board, Snake,’’ Cor- ‘van commanded, and he started the car. ‘And send your little playmates home.” He was gone in a cloud of dust. Maddox swore. “ Gettin’ a doctor for the village nut!” he gasped unbelievingly. And then, to the ardent sportsmen at the roadside: ‘“‘T gotta go up to the house.” He resented the power of Corvan’s voice, but he obeyed it. CHAPTER VII. WHEN DOCTORS DISAGREE. ORVAN made the eight miles to Brookhampton in something less than eleven minutes, and coming back again, made of the doctor a religious man. ‘It was not that the doctor was lacking in protest; he protested against Corvan’s wild speed in the name of everything from the Almighty to a sense of civic virtue; but Cor- van was a preoccupied man, and the doc- tor’s protests were in vain. _ Tf you consistently press down upon its accelerator, you will find that a high pow- ered car is an engrossing object. Corvan had eyes and ears for nothing but the road, and fleeting through the subconscious stra- tum of his thoughts was the desire to swing. once more between those white gate posts of the Trench cottage, and see 1f she was there to greet him. She was. “ Gracious, but you are back quick!” she exclaimed, standing in the doorway. The doctor gave her a brief greeting and passed into the house, leaving them alone on the little veranda, | . “ How is he?” asked Corvan. * Better. He seems to have come out of it just as usual.” He discerned the sorrow and the hope- Jessness with which shé spoke. “Tm sorry,” he murmured. ness. I don’t think the fall hurt him.. MAN, 659 As he spoke there flashed into his mind the words that Snake had spoken, ‘“‘ It’s like quicksand, and it’s getting you.” He was gazing at the girl. He felt an almost overwhelming desire to be something more to her than the “ summer people—like you.” “To they consider this case hopeless?” he asked her. She nodded. Again he was conscious that the gift of smooth talking would not avail him here. He must try to control himself. “You know,” he said, “Tf told you this morning that I was ashamed. ‘You. didn’t understand me then, but I should lke you to know what I meant. “T saw that they were driving that -boy mto a fit before it happened, and I saw him take that fall. But I walked around it.” He saw a little shadow cross her brow. “You can’t understand that, can you?” he asked, thoughtfully. “It was just an impulse,” she said. “No, it wasn’t. It was just that I am not accustomed. to help people, hke you are. And then I saw you run out and take his head upon your lap. And, you know, I can’t tell you what that meant.to me. It made me feel ashamed.” - Her face was very grave. as she examined his eyes. “But we're accustomed to it. To Har- old’s fits, I mean,” she said. Then she smiled, as though satisfied with her conclu- sion. “ That’s all it amounts to. You see, when you live next to a person who has fits all the time, you just naturally run and help them. That’ Salil.” | With indescribable amazement Corvan perceived that she was excusing him; seek- ing a charitable explanation for his selfish- it stirred a chord which was pro- foundly buried in his heart; a chord which had not been stirred since childhood. A great emotion welled up within him, and brought a rush of words to his throat, which he could not utter. Warm, demon- Strative words they were. ‘“ You angel!” he would have cried. ‘“ Oh, God, what a swine J am!” But he was enough the Great Conan to know that such words would never do. With an effort he controlled himself, but She frowned cCoOmiclooks C@