Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 25, 1924 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

/ 46 just to all concerned. What price do you think those Pomeroys ought to get?” “Five thousand dollars,’ Gene said crisply. I expected Lee Dimlock to open his mouth and cry aloud, but he only grumbled, glancing at the stubbs in his check book. “T haven’t got that much. I haven’t got much more than three thousand.” “Then why not make it for three?” Gene gently suggested. Lee Dimlock wrote the check—for three thousand dollars—and Gene waved it to and fro to dry. When it was dry he folded it and arose. “Mr. Dimlock,” he said cheerfully, “ you have done a noble thing. I am now going to repay you. I am going to make you the happiest man alive.” Lee Dimlock was staring at him. “You are going to get well,” Gene ener- getically proceeded. ‘‘ And as soon as you can travel, you are going away from here. The Pomeroy boys will not be held for trial, because you will not appear against them. I do not intend to take unfair advantage of you with this signed statement, unless you refuse to do what I’m telling you to do. If you make any attempt to have those boys sent up for shooting you, or if you stop payment on this check, or if Phil Pomeroy is hauled back to Connecticut to finish that sentence, youll hear from me. Otherwise you have my sacred word that it will never be made public. “ Come on, Buck, let’s ball the jack. We have lots to do. Good-by, Mr. Dimlock.” I opened the door. Dr. Rawlins was standing there, watch in hand. Gene looked at the watch and grinned. “Time up, doc?” he asked. “ Yes,” said Dr. Rawlins, ‘‘ forty minutes of it!” We stopped at the jail to acquaint the Pomeroy brothers with their good fortune, then drove back to Vingo. . Ma Babcock, knitting a sock on the porch, shrilled that Suzanne had gone out for a walk an hour ago. Wouldn’t we sit down and wait, and how was that low-down Dimlock makin’ out? We answered her questions, and hurried on down the road afoot. We both guessed, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. simultaneously, that Suzanne had gone to her orange tree for solace, comfort, and to rest. It -was the first time either of us had followed the narrow, twisting path that Su- zanne had made to her retreat. The scent of orange blossoms became sweeter, heavier, as we penetrated the jungle. Suzanne was seated on the bench with head bowed, hands clasped, a waxen-white petal occasionally falling near her or upon her. She glanced up at the sound of a snapped twig; leaped to her feet and ran to meet us. “Ts he dead?” Gene produced the signed and witnessed statement and the check. “ Nope,” he said gravely. to pull through. Read this.” He held the check under Suzanne’s pink, tip-tilted nose. She read it and gasped. “ Now—this.” Suzanne read the other and gasped con- tinuously. Then she leaned against the harsh, gray bole of a water oak and began to cry. Gene attempted then to take her in his arms, but Suzanne pushed him away. ‘““ No, Gene,” she said in a hardened little voice. «‘ No, Gene. Even when they are cleared, this will hang over our heads like a cloud. You have your future to think of. I intend to protect you from your own foolishness. You are going to be a great man some day. I would never be anything but a millstone—” “ Suzanne,” Gene interrupted her gently, “do you see that rock over yonder?” Suzanne gazed listlessly at the rock to- ward which he was pointing, and her face suddenly lighted. “That rock,” Gene proceeded, “ is very porous and soft, but it must weigh about forty pounds. If you say one more word about protecting me from my own foolish- ness, I am going to pick up that rock and I’m going to heave it—” “ T’d forgotten all about that rock,” Su- zanne breathlessly stopped him. “If you want to heave it at me, you’ll have to use a derrick, Gene. It’s coquina outcropping!” “Tt’s ojus!” Gene snorted. “ Kick it,” Suzanne invited. “ He’s going CORMICLOOOKS (C@