Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 25, 1924 — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

THE SNOW PATROL. motives were the highest. At this time it is impossible for me to say the things I want to say. You must realize that I am yours to command; that I will do anything for you. I want you to get your strength back. I realize that you can’t stay here for months. In some way I will get you out. I know you have received a blow— a terrible one; but even though I am will- ing to do anything I can to soften it for you, and to console you, i can’t let you go on accusing yourself of things that were beyond your power to prevent or see. I’m not a religious man, and I would not pre- sume to understand God’s mysteries. We must take life as we find it, and life doesn’t end here in this lonely cabin. We've got to go on.” Ledoux slipped in without warning just as I finished speaking. I had raised my voice unconsciously in my earnestness, and it hung on now as if intent on delivering me to him again. The amazement which suddenly blazed in Sheila’s eyes brought me to my feet with a jerk. I looked at Ledoux. His face was white. We never thought of bolting the door, but as I watched, he dropped the bar into place. He looked for all the world like a man who had just seen a ghost. Without a word he started for the kitchen. “ Why bother to bolt the door?” I asked. He ignored my question, and as if to cover the fact, he said over his shoulder: “The storm is aver; the win’ is shifting.” There was nothing in this innocent re- mark to explain the fear that was in his eyes, or the whiteness of his face; but that was all he said. As Sheila and I stared in his direction the kitchen door banged shut behind him. Dumbly we turned from him to face each other. “ Something’s up,” I whispered; “he’s seen something that has scared the life out of him.” : I had not stopped to think how Sheila might interpret my remark, but as she sud- denly sat up, her fists tightly clenched and her eyes a trifle wild, I divined her thought. ‘“ Crosbie?” she gasped. “ Do you sup- pose he has found him?” “TI don’t know. It could hardly have been that, though.” 139 I went to the window and peered out, but it was still snowing, and the night was dark. The moment had a weird drag for me. That feeling of impending danger, which had gripped me as I crossed the ice, returned to me now. A shiver ran up and down my back. When a log creaked I whirled, ready to meet—I don’t know what. I knew well enough that I had unwitting- ly communicated my feeling of alarm to Sheila. I was reluctant to face her for the moment. I stood at the window sparring for time, intent on pulling myself together. It grew unnaturally still in the cabin— that stillness which one feels, as though it were a tangible thing. Out of that sepul- chral stillness something thudded against the door. Rap—rap—rap! A human hand rapping for admission! Icy fingers clutched my heart. I glanced at Sheila. She was half out of bed, her eyes on the door—wide, staring! “ Wait!” I exclaimed. ‘“ Don’t let your- self go like this, Sheila. Ill open the door.” She groaned as she sank back upon the bed. That ghostly rapping began again as I hesitated. I leaped for the door and un- bolted and flung it back with all my strength. ‘What do you want?” I shouted. “ Who are you?” Into the room there stalked a squat fig- ure, wrapped in snow, eyes alight with a strange fire. I fell back, “My God!” I groaned in surprise and relief. ‘ You—” It was Wageesh, Ledoux’s Eskimo wom- an! Her flaming eyes did not tarry on me, nor on Sheila, but searched out every nook and cranny of the room. I had never thought her dignified or majestic, but there was that in her bearing now that compelled the thought. No wonder Ledoux’s face had blanched; he knew, and I knew, why she had come! She walked around the room, her feet making no sound as they slipped over the planks. She tried the kitchen door; it was locked. Like an avenging Nemesis she COMME OOOKS wn (C@)