The Argosy, Vol. 90 No. 1 — page 48: what you’re looking at

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

AZ the touch of the afternoon sun still lingered, # hint of warmth in the night. Nearly all the color had gone from the sky. And now surely they were approaching the point where the road lead to Buckingham village. Would the two men turn that way? Or were they trailing the wagon? Now, the sickening odor of beet pulp reached Hilairy as they approached the pens where refuse of the Buckingham sugar factory was fed to cattle. The moaning of these imprisoned beasts, awaiting slaughter, never ceased, day or night—there was al- ways, at least, one awake. Now and then cne of them would break out into futile rage, bawling a defiance that did him no good and alarmed nobody. Rawley Lord had always been fascinated by the moaning of cattle; he used to say he would make a piece of music one day, entitled ‘“‘ The Dumb Beast.” Hilairy could make out low-browed, sullen white faces, between horns that branched like trees. Their voices were like the groaning of all the suffering creatures in the world. It filled her with fear, so that she felt sure the two men in the road behind were trailing her wagon. Stolidly, guided by silent Ed Bayliss, the beet-wagon creaked on. It passed the road leading off to the village, and Hilairy looked back. First she thought the white-faced horse was turning— No; both horses came deliberately in the wake of the beet-wagon. Soon the man on the white-faced horse rode up alongside the wegon; and Hilairy saw his profile against the west. She had seen it before; he had once come to the Bayliss shack with a county sheriff to ask questions about Schwartz and Slim —and Rawley Lord. All the heart went out of her at sight of him. She wanted to cry out: ‘“‘ He is under the beets. kim if you are going to.” But she did not say that—or anything. She sat motionless beside Ed Bayliss; and the wagon creaked on toward the dump. They passed a cemetery neatly fenced, with slender trees growing around its en- closing fence; and inside the blue spruce Come and take THE ARGOSY. trees of the West among the marbles. Harsy was there—she wished that she were, too, and Rawley Lord. She had kept heart through a hard life. Now suddenly it fell on her and crushed her. She could not bear any more after to-night. The beet-wagon creaked on to the scales at Buckingham Dump. It went on for weighing. There were other beet-wagons, belated, waiting around the scales. A huge acetylene lamp made a circle of light. A Western ranch woman, large, handsome, dressed in short skirt and sweater, presided at the scales. The two men who had followed Hilairy’s wagon rode to the other side of the group of teams and stood watching. “It’s pretty light for such a looking load,” the weigh-mistress commented. Hilairy had no plan; she knew Ed Bay- liss had no plan. He took up the reins and started toward the dump car. The deputy sheriffs followed. She thought they were not sure and were hesitating about searching the wagon. The hole through which beets were dumped was reached by an inclined plane. When the horses had been driven over the floor it would be tilted and the load would drop into a flat car waiting on the track below. If Ed did that—to save himself from de- tection—the beets would crush Rawley to death. -And she knew he would rather be crushed than given over to the law. She trembled and was cold. Ed turned to climb the inclined plane. ‘Stop there!” cried the man on the white-faced horse. “ Get off your wagon; we have a search-warrant.” He showed his star as he spoke. Ed’s face became greenish and his body seemed to sink at the pit of the stomach. ‘‘ Mister,” he protested, “ ef thar’s any- thing in this hyar wagon contrary to law it sholy is unknown to me. It must have crep’ in under them beets while I were in the cabin, where I went back in to get my mittens just before I started. Some person sholy might have trampled with my load, then, because mammy she couldn’t find them mittens nowhere and she ‘lowed I hadn’t orter go‘on without ’em. En ’Airy there, she set on the wagon all the time, oO Comicbooe S CO