The Argosy, Vol. 90 No. 1 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

62 “Look here, Miss Fleming, we may as well have an understanding. I have an aversion to women in men’s places. I can quite understand how your father’s judg- ment is warped by his affection. And I suppose he is used to having you around with him. He doesn’t realize quite what this kind of thing means.” Her gaze poured into his, not less steady than his own. “This kind of thing is—what?” she asked coolly. ‘““Bossing. Butting in. Forgetting your place as a woman,” he replied rapidly. “You’re not narrow-minded enough to try to fit a girl like me into conventional bounds!” she flared. ‘You’re just the kind of a girl who ought to glory in a woman’s position. You are preeminently fitted to grace it,” he re- sponded. A flicker of scorn curved her upper lip more decidedly. She tried to pull the rein from his hand. But he held it securely. “T can’t see that I do anything I should not. I’ve had four years of very fashion- able school life. Most of if was dreadfully irritating and limiting. It depends more on the girl than on any particular right or wrongness of certain activities. Above everything, each of us, girl or man, has the right to liberty and the pursuit of happi-’ ness in our own way so long as it hurts no one else. That right is inalienably mine!” She was a gorgeous little creature of glow and fire. The fire of her fervor poured over Ben. He had the feeling that it was all meant for him. He appropriated it with an exuberant joy that took little account of the principle she proclaimed. He just masculinely reveled in her beauty and stim- ulating vitality. “It: does hurt some one else!” he pro- claimed. “Who?” she asked in genuine surprise. ‘““Me. You’re so exceptionally attrac- tive. It grates on a man’s idealism to hear you bossing and interfering in matters that are not in your line.” She swept him from the tips of his well- polished shoes to the crown of his well- groomed head. “Youre so exceptionally good-looking THE ARGOSY. that it grates on a girl’s idealism to find that you are only broad and high physic- ally!” With a suave little move to which her pony responded, she started. Ben had to spring aside to avoid the trampling hoofs. It had been said of him that he rarely met a foeman worthy of his linguistic spear. He watched her brown back as she swayed lightly in the saddle. He acknowledged reluctantly that a very agile and interesting foe-lady had put one over on him—a pretty big one. Not that Ben conceded anything to the truth of her position, to the force of her logic. He merely acknowledged that she had fitted his words to her bow and shot them back at him with telling accuracy. He did not like bossy women. He did think that the beauty of a girl was her big- gest reason for being. He was determined to comb Fleming down to a level of com- mon sense where he would see the absurdity of letting his daughter do his talking. Off to the right of the ranch-house there was a small cottage. It was nearer the cor- rals, alone on the slight knoll that it sur- mounted. Miss Fleming was making for it with the full speed of her vigorous little mare. A moment later he saw Fleming canter away from the neighborhood of the corrals and go to the little house. ““ Nunkie; he’s a pill!” Fortunately for all concerned, Moore could not hear that remark. He pulled a box of cigarettes from his pocket and sat down on the edge of the porch. “We've got him to swallow,” the man addressed as Nunkie responded grimly as he got down from his horse and flung the bridle over its head. Fan stared into nowhere. Her golden brows were puckered. Her eyes were dark with worry. “It’s so—so stupid! To have him come now! He'll interfere with everything!” ‘Lord, honey, ’tain’t as bad as that! Just ‘cause a man’s too stuck on himself ain’t no sign he ain’t got sense some ways! Some: times it’s because he has that he’s so puffed up. He’s likely made a few more ten-strikes oO Comicbooe S CO