Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 1, 1922 — page 145: what you’re looking at

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

THE GUN-FANNER. the ore-crusher, then the rock, and just before the vanguard of the steers. began to close in at the upper end af the cafiom, the maddened little horse bolted ahead into the gorge and out to the open plam and safety. CHAPTER XXVI. « THE PENANCE. AL TRIGGERS had seen the girl dis- C appear imto the dust cloud and he had lost sight of her long before she attained the safety beyond the gorge. The little cabin where Cal stood was now in the center of a veritable maelstrom. To save himself from this he leaped into the wm- dow, hoping that this wretchedly insignifi- cant refuge would protect him as the rest of the herd passed. Vaulting into the dark room he found himself in a pile of débris: an overturned chair, a small iron stove, a broken door and the splintered pine boards of the opposite wall, were the details that first met his eye. Underneath this mess he distinctly heard the moaning of Saul Meakin. It was a dis- tant, weird cry which struck into his con- sciousness more. poignantly than the bang- ing of the steers against the wall, or the screaming of the trampled and dying year- lings. When Cal’s eyes narrowed to the shadows of the dust-filled room he saw his enemy pinned to the floor under the fallen door. The two men were thus face to face— thrown together for their reckoning and as isolated in that brief moment as if on a desert island. Their eyes met. Meakin was crying out to him—the ex- pression on his face resembling a beggar asking for a pittance from a rich man. That pittance was life. Cal knew then that Meakin thought his last hour had come— that if the steers did not crush him, Cal himself would kill him with his hands. And there was the same beggar’s look in the man’s eyes which betrayed a sneaking hate. If Meakin’s arms had not been pinned, Cal knew, he would have whipped out his revol- ver and fired. Triggers fell to his knees, reached for Meakin’s holster and took the revolver out. “ Tm. dying, Triggers!” the man cried into Cal’s ears, and in such a high pitch that every word was distinct even in that than der of noise. “ Don’t add another murder to your name. I’m begging you, Triggers!” ‘‘ Begging me for what?” “* Tm helpless. EH EF move it feels as if my back will break—I’m begging you not te finish me cold—like this. For the sake of God, give me a chance.” “ A chance for what? Hf I let you up you won’t stand on your feet and face me. You know that!” Meakm could not hear Cal’s voice above the tumult. He only knew that his rival had him now as mexorably as a man whe holds a fledgling sparrow in the palm af his hand. But he could not tell by the set look on Cal’s face whether he would re- spend to beggary, or tears, or prayers. ‘“‘ Give me my life, Triggers! My life!” was all that Meakin could cry. The stern face of the man above him had grown gray. A limitless strength was there in the mouth, the set jaw, the steel- like eyes, but pain had drained it of its vivid red heat of anger. Meakin watched that face with the intentness of a man watching a hypnotist. He saw Cal turn to the opening where the front wall had been gored through. He saw him lift the revolver and hurl a blinding string of fire into the herd. Meakin, in his terror, did not realize the effect of this, but Cal did. Steers plunged heavily forward and rolled to the ground. Behind them others piled up, and for a few moments the little cabin was un- touched. Then turning back, Cal again saw the helpless man on the floor. The weight of the débris over him was crushing him, and judging from his white face, Meakin was succumbing. A whirl of thoughts beset Triggers as he looked down at that picture. His enemy— the enemy who had sought eagerly for Ins life—could be crushed there before his very eyes. The weight of one steer tumbling headlong onto that door was all that was necessary to press out his last gasp of life. And who woutd be to blame? If Meakin died certaimly there could be comicloool C©