Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 1, 1922 — page 50: what you’re looking at

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

840 Hubbard said nothing further, but he kept staring about as they proceeded to the shack, and then he inspected the building in rather a disapproving manner. Alice opened the door, and in a voice that was not nearly as soft and modulated as when Kemp had first met her, bade the two of them enter. Kemp was pained to note that her ap- pearance had not changed for the better. Another night of little or no sleep had tem- porarily sapped still more of the beauty that had been hers when he first saw her, and undoubtedly would be hers again when this dreadful period of suspense was ended. Her hair was not done up, her dress hung about her like a rag. Probably because it was still early in the morning, her floor was unswept, her bed was unmade, her break- fast dishes had not been washed. She apol- ogized briefly to Kemp for her appearance and took little or no notice of his com- panion. Kemp and Hubbard sat down. Kemp did not say anything, because he expected Hubbard to announce his identity. But the latter did not immediately do so, and for a moment or two there was an awkward pause. Kemp was on pins and needles. He looked at his companion and noted that Hubbard was intently studying his wife. Alice did not recognize Hubbard as her husband. Kemp was not entirely surprised at that, for the man certainly looked as dif- ferent from the photograph that Alice had as the same man very well could look. But he did expect that Hubbard would speak to her, and as one embarrassing moment suc- ceeded another without his doing so, Kemp’s suspense became agonizing. Final- ly he spoke up himself. “T was just on our way down stream,” he said, ‘ and dropped in to see if there is anything I can do for you.” “Nothing at all, thanks,” said Alice in the preoccupied manner that was growing upon her of late. There was another awkward pause. “¢ Since there is nothing I can do for you, I guess there isn’t any particular ‘reason for me to stay any longer, is there?” Kemp glanced at Hubbard as he em- phasized the personal pronoun. He noted ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, that the man was seated in the darker part of the one-windowed shack, and that Alice was paying no attention to him. Hubbard at last seemed to grasp the hint that had been conveyed in Kemp’s tone. He gulped once or twice and slowly rose to his feet. He stood looking at Alice and from her to Kemp, and, after another ago- nizing period of suspense, he spoke. “I guess ’—he said slowly and labori- ously—“ I guess—we had better be gaing.” He turned to the door, and in another moment Kemp found himself beside the man on the pathway outside. He did not quite know how he got there. He supposed he had said good-by to Alice in the usual way, but he could not have sworn that he had. He proceeded beside Hubbard until they reached the boat, then he turned on him. ‘‘What’s the idea, Hubbard?’ he ‘ques- tioned sharply. ‘ Why didn’t you speak to your wife? You recognized her, didn’t you?” Hubbard smiled in his peculiarly nasty manner. “Yes, I recognized her,” he acknowl- edged. | “Then why didn’t you tell her who you were? You said you wanted to go back to her, didn’t you?” __ Sure I wanted to go back to her,” Hub- bard replied, “when I thought she was worth going back to; when I thought she had a business of her own, and money and position. But not now, you bet. Why, I'd be crazy to do it. Go back to a woman who looks like an emigrant, and came away up here to Alberta to file on a homestead? Did you notice how she kept her place? Unswept, down at tne heel inside and out— fit for nothing but a Bohunk to live in. ““ Business of her own! That’s a hot joke, that is. She’s got no business of her own. If she had she wouldn’t be filing on a homestead. And such a homestead! I never saw a worse one. The woman must be crazy. No, you bet I didn’t tell her who I was, and what’s more, I won’t. “I dare say she would like to get me back. Sure! Thinks I’ll try to work ‘the rotten place, I guess, and make a living for her. Fat chance! I see myself slaving for comicloool C©