Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 27, 1925 — page 65: what you’re looking at

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

FLIGHT TO for education wouldn't be allowed to come to us. If the feud breaks out again—if the old murderous hates leap up again— all our efforts go into the scrap heap. All that we’ve built up tumbles down. The children will be taken away from our class- rooms—and set back to leaming hate and bloodshed.” “Yes, I can see that but—”’ ‘““Wade Murrell,” the teacher went on, “has struggled year in and year out to keep that peace—and he’s been our friend. lf his enemies can discredit him, this sec- tion of the mountains will slip back to out- Jawry—and those enemies are apt to make you a pretext. Wade let his generosity run away with his judgment when he befriended you.” Cynthia clutched at the other woman’s arm. “ You aren’t going to make me go away, are your” she demanded. ‘“ That isn’t going to be your fee, is it?” Anne Purviance shook her head. ““No, but I’m going to dictate the terms on which you can stay. You must re- member that the affairs and the safety of @ good many people may depend on any trouble that arises—and, after all, you are only one person. Those questions may de- pend on how carefully you behave yourself —how careful you are to keep the peace. You can do us a lot of harm if you don’t watch yourself- I want to help you, but my life and my work belong to these moun- tain people. I must think of them first.” Cynthia told her story, and the candor with which she recited it left no doubt in her hearer’s mind of its truth. Putting into words for the first time those events that had hurried and harried her through such nightmare horrors seemed to bring a won- derful ease and relief to the girl's heart, and when she finished she looked up out of wet eyes. “IT know now why they call you a saint,” She said. Anne Purviance flushed, and to cover her embarrassment she spoke almost brusquely. ‘These ugly stories about you will be kept persistently alive for a time at least. You've got to live them down. You've got lo be patient. You've got to remember S57 that many innocent things will be mis- construed. You're under suspicion here, not only because of yourself, but because of Wade's enemies. Remember that, and act accordingly.” “Tm not going to try to vamp anybody, if that’s what you mean—I’m not going to try to jazz up the home life of these hills. All I’m asking just now is to stay out of jail.” “ But that’s not all. You and I know that in New York, in any town, there are all sorts of men—and women. Here, to these simple folks, a ‘ furrin’ woman '— just a ‘ furrin’ woman ’—and she’s ‘quare.’" “So it’s up to me to be the simple little ingénue—and not to make any wise cracks?” ‘Here, you will be the example of the lowlands. People will point to you. They will judge us all by you. If they condemn you, they may condemn us, too—and some of us can’t afford to fail here. The school still has enemies.” ‘Tve never been a big hit actress,” de- clared Cynthia soberly, “ but I’ve got it in me. I'll play this part for all I’m worth. This is a Cwsar’s wife character—one hundred per cent pure and above suspicion twenty-four hours a day.” . The Saint of Doe Run smiled, but before she could answer they heard a hahd on the door, and Aunt Erie Aung it open. “La, Miss Purviance,’”’ exclaimed the elder woman. ‘“ Does ye know I plumb wishes this hyar gal hed done hed ther power ter fotch her trunk along with her. I'd p’int-blank love ter see all ther purties thet I'll bet she’s got packed away.” The teacher smiled and the mountain woman Went on: “Some day, when thar hain’t nobody hyar save only me an’ her ter git scandalized by our goin’s on, I’m goin ter git her ter fix herself up for me with all her paint an’ powder an’ all ther balance of hit. I'l) bet she'll be as purty es a flower pot.” “T’m afraid,” suggested Cynthia de- murely, “ Mr. Murrell would object. He threatened to scrub the rouge off my face, if I didn’t do it for myself.” “Wade, huh!” His mother snorted. ‘When me an’ you hes thet lectle dressin’ THE HILLS. COnniEaoo () SS Co