Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 121: what you’re looking at

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

WHAT WAS THAT? again the sharp tap, a request for silence, and questions—more questions. After these had been asked and answered, for perhaps thirty minutes, old Nathan was called to witness. Then came more cran- ing of heads, more whispered speculations, and the queerest and most counting bit of testimony that that day had held. “ It’s like this,”’ he drawled, ‘‘ something I seen this morning fixed it fer truth to my thinkin’. It’s like this—” he paused. I know he longed to spit, and after shifting his ever-present cud of tobacco; went on with: ‘I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ against the testeemony of Gus Dirks. Him and me have been neighbors, an’ good neighbors, fer nigh forty-some years, I reckon. But —now lookee here, you ask Gus; didn’t he see the Angel Gabriel real plain wunst when he was chasin’ a white leghorn down in the north lot?” Gus admitted it; admitted it with a holy, uplifted, and curiously solemn look gracing his insignificant face. That look, which would have made another man splendid, only turned his poor little face more silly than it was naturally. ‘“He come to me,” said Gus, ‘‘ a wavin’ a sword. He says: ‘ Keep off the creek! Danger lies there!’ I says ‘ Yes, sir,’ and then he says: ‘I am the Angel Gabriel!’ and cut and run.” There was laughter—laughter that be- wildered and hurt the poor little man and his pride in that which was his reality. He looked foolish and stunned beneath it. I hated it, and the way that people who wouldn’t hurt a dog — physically — will walk up to any one’s pet belief and kick it, sneering as they do so. ‘Where did Gabriel go?” asked one of the lawyers. “IT dunno ’—this sullenly—‘‘ I was a prayin’.” | ‘Good occupation,” said Judge Har- kins’s lawyer; ‘“‘ but he who remains to pray often loses his train. You lost this one, and Gabriel’s first stop. And now, Mr. Greenleaf—”’ He questioned Nathan for a moment; Nathan answered at random, seemed to have lost his thread, and then suddenly he gripped it again and turned to Gus. 399 “Gus, he has fallin’ fits,” he announced. ‘‘ Just ask Gus, ain’t that true?” Gus nodded heavily—nodded in a man- ner that bespoke a distinction, humbly owned. “Yes, sir,’ went on Nathan; “ he’s had these here fallin’ fits ever since I’ve knew him, and that’s forty some years, if I count correct. Now after these here fallin’ fits Gus don’t always know what he sees and hears. Ain’t that true, Gus?” Poor, stupid Gus nodded. Nathan did not go on, he looked at Gus steadily, and the crowd breathed an “ Ah!” ‘Get Gus to tell ’em about some of his dreams,” drawled Nathan smoothly. “ Tell ‘em about how wonderful he planned to drain the crick and make a place in the sand to raise melons. Tell ’em how an angel come to him and says if he prayed regular it would dry up. Tell ’em—” Gus did. For that moment—for several after that Billy was cleared. And then, Gus Dirks, sensing what had occurred, grew _ irate, spluttered, asserted that what he had seen had happened. . ‘That there feller,” he said, “had a dark four-in-hand tie on. I seen it by the moon that slid up and shone bright while I was still a layin’ there. He had a tic- pin shaped like a almond ”—I shook; that shape of pin was the one Billy usually wore—*‘ she was wearin’ white. She picked up a dress with checks in it. She says: ‘ Bill, what you got this here for?’ He says: ‘ Mebbe I'll use it.’ He didn’t tell her what for.” “What color was the dress?” asked some one. “T ain’t sure. I think pink.” I looked at Nathan in despair. His ruse had failed. I thought we were gone, uniil Nathan spoke again. When he did my heart leaped and then missed a beat from relief, . “I’ve more to say,” he announced. ‘ f think I know who done it. And it wasn’t that there young feller who’s sweet on Miss Aprile. I notioned it, and this morning 1! seen what proved it. Leastways, to my thinkin’, it proved it.” “Go on, omit details,” said some one. Eomicbooks (E09) — “es, oo —<- fs =