Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

FOR MAGGIE’S SAKE. “ Well, Howle,” he greeted, “ how’d you come out?” “ Probably like you will. Listen, Wilkes, I know a volume about you. Maggie’s too damned good for you, and if you don’t let up I’ll see you’re put where you'll have to.” “ Let’s talk about it more private. Say over at my store. Nobody ever comes in there yet.” They walked over to the store. “Now,” said Chauncey, “ what do you know about me?” . “ A plenty.” And Howle related the in- cident at the hotel in Boise. Chauncey seemed altogether too uncon- cerned about the matter to satisfy Bill’s ro- mantic nature. “ Fact is, Bill, there is a lot of truth in what you say. Maggie is too good for me, but it takes a good woman like her to make a man out of a skunk like me. I don’t see any other way out of it ex- cept to marry Maggie Bills, if she’ll stand for it.” “You'll not marry Maggie Bills while I’m here.” “ Maybe not, Scream. But then maybe I’ll do it some time when you’re notxhere.” And thus the matter stood for a couple more weeks, and then the populace of Pine crawled out of bed one fine morning to hear that Chauncey Wilkes and Maggie Bills were going to be married. Folks had wait- ed a long time for something like that to happen. The news spread like wildfire. Then, to cap the climax, Maggie and Chauncey set the wedding for the next Sunday, only five days off, for neither saw any necessity in prolonging the agony. That night Bill Howle stalked into Chauncey’s store, his shoulders square and erect, his chin set with determination. ‘“‘ Chauncey,” he snapped, “ if you’re any kind of a man, you'll drop this business here and now. You won’t tie that girl up to a life of crime like yours. Go back to your Flora Reece, and leave good women alone.”’ “ Can’t do it, Bill. out now.” “Then damn you, I’ll make ye!”’ Bill peeled off his coat and squared him- self before Chauncey. Too late to back 139 “Listen,” interjected Chauncey. “ If we fight here, somebody ’ll come in and stop.us. Supposin’ we walk out where it’s kinda lonesome like, and you can get me buried before anybody finds out I’m miss- ing.” Bill stared at him suspiciously. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand Chaun- cey Wilkes. Together they left the store and walked for half a mile down the road. Then they turned into a field, and after hiking off several rods came to a stop by an old log which the spring floods had left stranded there. . The moon shone brightly and illuminated the country with a crisp, yellow light. IV. _ BIL tossed his coat on the log and wait- ed for Chauncey to do the same. “Sit down a minute,, Bill. There ain’t no particular hurry about this business. Sit down, and let’s talk about it a little.” “Talk nothin’!” Bill flopped down on the log. ‘“ What the dickens you stallin’ about?”’ Chauncey ignored this fit of peevishness. ‘So, honest to God, Bill, you don’t think I ought to marry Maggie?” ““T certainly don’t!” “'Well—maybe you're right.” long time Chauncey sat in silence. Then he spoke up again. ‘ Somehow I can’t agree with you, Bill. But I’ll tell you what I'll do. Ill scrap it out with you. If you lick me I’ll pull up my stakes and quit and leave Maggie. If I lick you, then I'll marry Maggie, and you keep your mouth shut for her sake. See? Is that a bar- gain?”’ Bill thought it over. nounced. Chauncey stripped off his jacket. two men stood confronting each other. *“* Now, do your darnedest,”’ said Chaun- cey. ‘“ This is for Maggie’s sake.. Let her go!” At the word Bill rushed and swung a ripping uppercut under Chauncey’s jaw. Chauncey kicked up his heels and landed on his back. Like a streak he bounded to his feet and came at the elusive Bill with For a “Tt is,” he an- The comicloool C©