Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 16, 1921 — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

80 Morg’s, rage was almost wordless. Up before him flashed the chance he was riding away from, the chance to catch and rid him- self of his tival. In the distorted abandon of his imagination to the impressions of his jealousy, he had accepted Arch Clayton as a dire menace to his success with De- wilde. That she could love a man who had maltreated her uncle and tried to kill another man had ceased to be a matter for argument. She was a woman; she would love the man she loved im spite of his short- comings. Her love would only be overcome by the removal of the man. Then, a man who loved her Se age would have his innings. It was a barharoes, primitive way of looking at it; but it was Morg Martin’s way. Close to the surface in his conscious- ness was the belief that a woman could be won by the oldest of all methods, the way of force and dominance. He sat swearing under his breath while the train rolled mile after mile away from the place where his presence was imperative. With a grim self-scorn, he thought of the easy way in which he had fooled himself when he moved through the very furrow in the snow that Clayton had made. He had told himself that it was not his man because a horse’s tracks accompanied his. His man had no horse. And all the time, Switches, Dewilde’s own pony, was guiding the criminal to haven. Meanwhile stretched in the snow beside the track, Edward Wharton lay as still as a dead man. But he was very much alive. The words that Morg had shouted acted like a clamp holding him tight to the soft bed into which he had fallen. “<Nab’ me! I guess not!” this thoughts ran. Of course the singing bullet had injected @ special significance into the words. He could not make out who would be in pur- suit of him under the circumstances; but that bullet announced that his pursuer had a deep and deadly intention. It could scarcely be the postmaster. They had talked amicably as they plowed through the snow to the station.. He could have ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. shot him when the shooting was easier if he had wanted to. But somebody had. Anid the somebody must have seen him dive off the opposite si@e of the train. oe Then an explanation flashed into his ab- normally active mind which seemed to gain power as he held his body rigid. She had informed. ‘She had gone to the lean-to. She had found his note. And she had guessed that the pony would take him to town. ' And that person whose horse’s nose he had seen had been to the house and reported about Clayton. The note had convicted him. She had sent the person post-haste on his trail. The deep marks of his own and the pony’s ‘route had been easy to follow. She had acted instantly; she would. For she would think first that justice should be done. Would she keep his note and would she notice that he had asked her to think him less black than circumstances would indicate? _ Then Wharton realized that the train was almost out of hearing and that there had been no rush from the platform across the track in search of him. He grinned at the cold moon, scudding from cloud to cloud as if fearful of being seen. The unexpected had happened. His pur- suer had jumped on the train believing him still there. = But though he had this pleasarit notion, Wharton lay still. He heard the diminish- ing voices of the two men he knew to be on the platform. He wondered how soon a search would be concluded and the train stopped to allow the man who shot at him to return. Exactly one way of possible escape lay open to him. Mosher had told him of the gang with the snow-plow out along the track westward. He thought a bit longingly of the telegraph instrument in the little station. But this was no time to risk mak- ing his presence known by wiring east- ward to secure his inheritance. The more and the sooner hhe put distance between him. and this particular place, tthe better his chance would be of realizing on his aunt’s generosity eventually. dA Go DOOLK C@