Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 27, 1925 — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

FLIGHT TO he said with stark simplicity. Then with a resolute effort, he turned to Cynthia, who stood at the edge of the lamplight. “Ma’am,” he said, ‘‘ we come hyar with one notion of ye. Now we've done seed ye—an’ we goes away with another. Ye Nowed out thar thet ye’d heered women- folks was safe among us. I've always heered thet, too— Thar be some half witted folk thet browbeats witch-women an’ lewd wenches—but even sich women as them, ther balance of us jest warns away.” He paused and wiped the cold sweat of agitation from his face on the sleeve of his coat. “These boys thet flung rocks at ye—I reckon they was dunces—but still they brought down shame on us all. I reckon my boy, he kinderly swep’’em offen th’ar feet an’ egged ’em on—but I’ve done seed ye standin’ betwixt ther man thet befriend- ed ye an’ death. I aims ter sot ye right with folks. Thet hain’t no more then yore rightful due—I aims ter tell hit ye’ve done been lied erbout—an’ I looks ter see good folks ask yore pardon—I reckon ye don’t heed ter go away after all.” “Thanks lots,” murmured Cynthia Meade. It was genuine feeling for this distressed old man that suddenly misted her eyes and softened her voice, but -the- tears and the light of pity made those young eyes starry. She had promised to play a part here; the part of demure sim- plicity, of disarming ingenuousness, and now she felt, with an unaccountable sin- cerity, that it was a part she would like to make real. She didn’t want to act it. She wanted to be it. As she stood there, a few minutes after she had thrown herself before Wade Mur- rell, she was a slight and appealing picture in which the Amazonian fires had been quenched into aspects that were all soft and feminine. There was not only physical beauty in her and about her, but winsome- ness as well. “ Thanks lots,” she said again. ‘I want to stay—but 1 seem to bring too much trouble.”’ “ She hain’t a goin’ away, nowhars,” an- nounced Wade Murrell sharply, ‘‘ save only when she goes of her own free. will—an’ THE HILLS. ST9 she’s a goin’ ter tarry hyar twell folks takes back th’ar lies an’ eats th’ar slurs. I've done been defied an’ I don’t ‘low ter sub- mit.” Cynthia looked swiftly about the little circle of faces, and they were all now the faces of friends. Once more she spoke, and her words came impulsively. “Please forgive me for putting in my oar out there without being asked. I saw I was the cause of this trouble and all I came out to say, was that I’d go away, Then the shot came and I got excited— You’re dead right when you say there are no better people in the world than the Mur- rells— Nobody was ever so good to me before.” Enoch Wade had been looking, too, at the slight figure, and it seemed to him that she. was a delicate and fragile vessel to have held and poured out such a militant con- tempt for danger as he had seen out there under the white-moon. Mountain women might have shown such .a spirit, but with it would have gone a stoic hardness of bear- ing. This girl had, to the eye that studied her, the softness of flowers, and her green eyes were demurely downcast — and tear- misted. A genuine, almost tremulous, diffidence assailed her, and a belated weakness swept her after 2-day that had been so full of unaccustomed violence. She swayed a lit- tle on her feet and moved to Jean for support against the stones of the fire- place. “ Nobody hyar hain’t faultin’ ye fer what ye done, gal,” Enoch assured her gravely. “I don’t see aught in ye.thet hain’t plumb maidenly—an’ I aims ter say so master plain ter all men—but ye've done been through a wicked hard day—I reckon ye're plum tuckered out. Ef I was you, fer some siv’ral days ter come, I wouldn’t do nothin’ but jest easy, settin’-down work.” Cynthia Meade, the softly-speaking, modest-mannered country maiden! Some- times in those next few days that followed, the girl would think of her old companions and, in imagination, she could hear their ribald laughter at such a picture. She COMmica@oo SS Co