We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.
Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.
II
MOTION PICTURE MAGAZINE
Ruth, with urn-aniiy "How'd be go, Wilks.' Thru v. poofl Wist I 'd been awake awn him." With a sadden, ring of mood, she dropped to uk ea and clasped her dimplepricked hands in the devout attitude q In taut Samuel. "Now pray inr. please, Wilks," she directed. •■lira ii 'dad's too dead to hear my rs tonight/'
The brothers felt their way down the (Traveled walk in silence. The
".\«'\\ I'KW Mi:, PLEASE, WILKS," SHE DIRECTED
rank Smell of crushed tansy leaves
ted the pur« air or perhaps it
something else. I iertainly they
no longer walked comradely together
they bad come. Life, the Alche
me reagents one is
Either can
transform the human BOUl. In the
h of these two
m brothers flamed the sallow
*Ur they had
;hi in old dames
■n. had Hate, iispiciouj which met, wavi illy, met again. " u I'M. with an effort
and drew his
hand waveringly over his eyes. "Ugh! think of the old skinflint's spinning such a golden web under our eyes all these years," he said. "The last of his line, except the little girl. You know, they say the Greshams were once pirates and highwaymen. and that old rattle-trap of a house back there has seen more than one queer thing. I'd believe anything after what we saw tonight. "Well, the girl'll be rich."
"Yes," agreed his brother, slowly, "the girl will be rich "
The moon shuddered dowTn across faces suddenly distorted with new, cruel lines.
The months dragged by aimlessly in the little village, unconscious of undercurrents of elemental passion. In the grim, gray house on the hill. Ruth prattled over her dolls as joyously as any child, while Wilks pottered drearily around the echoing shell of rooms, refurnishing them with the grandeur of old days and peopling the moth-riddled divans and rat-hunted alcoves with the shades of the long dead. The venturesome boys of the village dared each other to climb the hill at night, while the rooks in the naked elms shrieked hoarsely, like lost souls. Visitors, to raj) the corroded knuckles of the front-door knocker, were few — two only, in fact. And. strangely, after that first visit, they came singly, with backward glances of unease. Stealthy footsteps creaked the loose boards of stair and bedroom at odd hours. Shadows, that tied guiltily at a noise, tlitted across the ban4 walls. Now and then a rheumatic lock squealed like a taunting tongue, and the vitals
of the house groaned tO sly steps. It was inevitable that the sore truth should fester to the surface In long. "You! 1 thought so!" sn>
Henry Collins, detaching himself from the gloom of the doorway. '• And how long, my thief-brother, has this been gOUQg on
"Brother-thief is better." snarled the other. "I have as much right