Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 25, 1924 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

: Yad, it VALOR. 5 “Ts that to preserve your complexion?” she called after him. “T don’t know,” he answered her quite seriously, genuinely ignorant of her mean- ing. ‘It ain’t healthy to have the sun on yore head.” He walked to the go-devil—the wire with the bucket on it which ran from the top of the bank to the middle of the creek—and letting the bucket run out on its fine, he tipped it expertly with the controlling cord and stood there relaxed, waiting for it to fill. Without understanding the reason for her pleasure she was delighted by the grace- ful spring of his stride, by the lithe relaxa- tion of his slim body as he stood there on the edge of the bank. Her pleasure found expression in a smile, and she smiled as he drew the bucket in, pouring its contents with solemn concentration of purpose into the pail she had given him. He brought it to her. _ “ Now taste it,” he urged, and his red lips curled in a smile as he offered her the pail. She hesitated for a moment, reflect- ing that his smile was sweet, then she sipped at the water. Instantly she gave violent protest. Her wide red lips con- tracted, her freckled nose wrinkled, and now that her face was close to his, he saw her blue-gray eyes disappear as the long lashes tangled when the lids screwed tight- ly together, and her little brows came down. ° “Ugh!” she squealed. ful taste!” “ Alkali!” he laughed. “But the puppies will be sick!” she cried. “No. Animals don’t notice it much; not so little as this.” She gazed at him doubtfully. “ You'll see,” he assured her. “ Will you carry it down to the wagon?” she asked. He gazed down the hill to the wagon road; there was nothing to be seen. “It’s round the bend,” she explained. “T saw the house from way around on the other side. When I found there wasn’t anybody there I had to walk all round it. My, it’s hot, isn’t it?” *“ What an aw- “Mmm,” he admitted it, nodding his head. She glanced sidewise at his sober, boyish face as they walked unevenly down the trail; she was very curious. “* How long have you been out here,” she asked him. “‘ All my life,” he answered flatly. ‘““ How old are you?” she blurted out. He looked at her very quickly, surprised at the abrupt interrogation. Then he smiled tolerantly. This was a woman, and a kid at that; also she was from the out- side. She couldn’t be expected to know better. “ Eighteen,” he said. ‘“ Do vou live there?” She indicated the ranch house on the hilltop. ‘No. That’s the old Dasent ranch. Nobody lives there.” ““Why not?” She sensed a romance; the tragedy of a deserted ranch. ‘“ Were they driven out?” she asked. “No.” David never wasted words. “ My father took over the ranch from Jud Dasent. He wanted the water, because water’s scarce in these parts. So he took it over.” ‘“ Bought it?” ““Yes—” David hovered on the briak of falsehood. ‘“‘ He took it over,” he ex- plained. ‘“And what happened to Jud—whatever. his name is?” ‘““ My father gave him a piece of work to do.” They had rounded the hillside now, and could see the wagon with its two somnolent horses standing, inanimate in the glowing heat. The broken country was piled around them in a gorgeous chaos of colored rocks and clay and strange plants, born of the sun’s thin gold. The naked stem of a great cactus towered above them with a cluster of grotesque rock plants, like a fam- ily of evil children at its feet. David noticed that as they passed this gaunt giant the girl appeared for a moment as something elfin, indescribably delicate and aerial, under its high bulk. The clay of the wagon road was somber red, and her slight figure stood in relief against it. Close as they were to each other, the quivering COMMICLOOOKS (E@)