Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

PRAIRVE FLOWERS. ky—was borne a breath of the wide open places. The man’s nostrils quivered. Yes, it was there—the scent of the little blue and white prairie flowers—her flowers. Instantly his brain cleared. A moment before he had been hopelessly drunk; now he was so- ber. It was as though the delicate scent had entered his nostrils and cleansed his brain, clearing it of the befuddling fog, and leaving it wholesome, alert, capable. Poignantly, with the scent of those flowers, the scene of a year ago leaped into mem- ory, when he had stooped to restore them to her hands—there in the tiny glade beside the big boulder. ““ Alice!” he cried sharply. ‘* 'Tex!’? The name was a sob, and then: “Oh, please—please strike a light! I’m— I’m afraid!”’ For just an instant the Texan hesitated, a match between his fingers, and his voice sounded strangely hard: “A light, now, will mean they’ll get me! But—if you’re real, girl, I'll trust you. If you ain’t—the quicker they shoot, the bet- ter!”’ There was a scratching sound, a light flared out, and, candle outstretched, the girl came swiftly to the bar; and as he held the match to the wick the Texan’s eyes gazed wonderingly into the eyes of blue. CHAPTER VII. THE TEXAN ‘“‘ COMES A SHOOTIN’.”’ LICE ENDICOTT gazed searchingly into the Texan’s flushed face and wondered at the steadiness of his eyes. “ They—they said you were drunk,” she faltered. The cynical smile that she remembered so well twisted the man’s lips: “They were right—partly. I was head- ed that way; but I’m cold sober now.” “Then leave your guns here and come with me. You must submit to arrest. They’ll fine you and make you pay for the damages, and that will be all there’ll be to it.” : The Texan shook his head. “No. I 019 told that marshal he couldn’t arrest me, an’ he can’t.” : Alice’s heart sank. ‘“ Please—for my sake,” she pleaded. ‘‘If you haven’t got the money—”’ 3 “Oh, I’ve got the money, all right—a whole year’s wages right here in my pocket. It ain’t the money—it’s the principle of the thing. I made my brag, an’ I’ve got to see it through. They might get me, but they’ll never arrest me.” “Oh, please—”’ Tex interrupted her sharply, and the girl was startled at the gleam that leaped sud- denly from the gray eyes. ‘‘ What are you doing here? Has he—didn’t you an’ Win —hit it out?” “Oh, yes! Yes! Win is here—” _“ An’ he let you come in alone—an’ stayed outside—” ““No—he doesn’t know. He’s up at the Camerons. I went for a ride, and coming back I saw the crowd, and when they told me the man in here was a Texan, somehow, I just Knew it was you.” The gleam faded from the man’s eyes, and he regarded her curiously. “ But, what are you doin’ in Timber City—you an’ Win?” ; ~“ Why, it’s our anniversary! We want- ed to spend it here where we were married. And besides, we’ve got the grandest scheme. Win wants to see you. Come on, give your- self up, and pay their old fine!” ‘““T won’t be arrested,” repeated the Tex- an stubbornly. ‘ An’ don’t count me in on any scheme with you an’ Win.” Once more his eyes blazed, and his words came low and tense: ‘ Can’t you see—I haven’t forgot. I don’t reckon I ever will forget!”’ “Don’t, don’t, Tex! You haven’t tried to forget. How many girls have you known since—a year ago?”’ ‘‘ None—an’ I don’t want to know any! There ain’t any more like you—”’ Alice interrupted him with a laugh: ‘“Don’t be a fool.’ I know loads of girls —and they’re all prettier than I am, and they’ve got lots more sense, too. Please don’t spoil our anniversary this way. There are twenty men out there, and they’re all armed, and they’ve sworn to kill you if you don’t give yourself up.” Gomicbooks (E(o)