The Argosy, April 1916 — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

36 to pull out his backbone. He thought his spine must be injured. The night breeze, making the usual melancholy sound through the firs and cedars, added none to his comfort. His right foot pained him excessively. His head was dizzy. After lying quiet for some time his head grew clearer, but as his senses became more acute his pain increased. But memory re- turned. “I’ve done it,” he growled to himself. “Fool! I was in too much of a hurry. Why, they could go north to Baffin’s Bay while I’m lying here. Oh, what pain! I wonder where Williams is. Why doesn’t he come?” For a time he lay there listening to the doleful sound of the wind among the ever- greens, and then tried once more to sit up. It was again a useless as well as a painful effort. His back, he decided, must be broken. : “Williams!” he shouted, but it was a feeble cry. ‘“‘Williams, here I am.” And there he might stay till doomsday for all of Williams. He tried to peer into the blackness that surrounded him. If he could only see something, however little. But he could not. “Gracious Heaven!” he muttered to him- self. “Have I been stricken blind?”’ And, with all his pain and misery, one of the uppermost thoughts in his mind was that never again could he look into Beverly Wayne’s violet eyes. He had the limited use of his hands, and fished a metallic matchsafe from a pocket. He managed, with great difficulty, to light a match. He saw the flame, and the trees nearest him, and the dim, dancing, reflected light of the bit of fire. ~ “Thank God, life is worth fighting for; I am not blind,” he sighed with relief, as he threw the match away and lay flat on his earthy bed. The discovery that his sight was unin- jured acted like a pacifier. He could stand the loss of an arm or leg. His income was assured, and although he did not rank with Raymond among millionaires, and in New York was actually small fry, he had enough and to spare. So, with his mind more at rest, and making lighter of his pains, but still unable to get up, he fell asleep. It was broad daylight when he woke. The sky was clear, and the sun was trying to penetrate the thick foliage to the ground. THE ARGOSY. Here and there a spear of sunlight did pierce through, but shade predominated. Still, lying on his back and looking up, Yale could see blue sky, the sun playing upon the upper branches of the trees, and he felt that life was his owr again. He gathered himself for an effort and rose to a sitting posture. “Ha! Spent the night on pine and fir. Nature’s own balm,” he exclaimed. “No wonder I’m better.” He was so elated that he scrambled to his feet, stood erect, and was immediately overcome by so severe an attack of nausea and vertigo that he fell flat on his face. He lay there a full hour, and then once more his senses came back to him. He realized that although there may have been no bones broken in his tremendous catapult against the tree, something was so clearly wrong that he must husband what strength he had and make no violent effort. Slowly he rose and put one foot in front of the other. “By cracky! I can walk,” he cried joy- fully. ‘“Now we'll go find Williams.”’ Painfully he picked his way to the road- side, and saw, about forty feet away, the automobile, right side up, but looking a total wreck, standing out of the way of passing traffic. We walked over to it, but there was no trace of Williams. He made as complete a search as he was able to, but saw nothing ‘that added to his meager knowledge of what had happened. If Williams had not been injured, he had walked off and left him to his fate. If Williams had been killed, somebody had ‘discovered what was left of him and taken it away. Yale knew nothing about the automobile turning turtle. He stood, a helpless and pitiable mortal, by the side of the wrecked machine. He swayed on his feet, pains most excruciating shot through him, and he was in constant danger of falling again in a fit of vertigo. His right foot was so swollen that he could scarcely stand the pain when he trod on it. And now, what could he do? There was not a house in sight and his recollection of the region was so slight that he did not know how far the nearest one might be. There appeared to be little travel on the road. It was not the season for fresh green vegetables. Therefore, farm-wagons would not appear going to the city at that hour. Other traveling, men to town or village on ® COmiclboo S C@