All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 115: what you’re looking at

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

A THIEVES’ swer any questions and help you all I can in the terrible business.” She spoke so rapidly and so con- vincingly that Parks did not have either a chance or, apparently, the in- clination to interrupt, and he was no more surprised than Margaret and I. There was’ a trace of Campbell in Alice’s prevarications; a twisting of the truth which only one man could have questioned, and he was dead. Parks looked at me, at Margaret, then back to Alice. “He is the Earl of Diddering- thing?” “ Didderington,” Alice corrected. “He has been using the name Mason to avoid publicity. You've met him before, haven’t you?” The detective’s face clouded for a moment, probably at a memory. “ How did that Varelli woman hap- pen to seee you with MacGregor last Saturday night?” he questioned me sharply. * Rollins was to have met me down there, but he didn’t turn up,” I an- swered, taking a leaf from Alice’s book. ‘I told you I hadn't the faint- est idea—” ‘All right,” came the interruption heavily, and there were a few mo- ments of agonizing hesitation that seemed to concern me _ principally. “Well, I guess I can't hold you. Get- ting married ain’t a crime.” Then he touched my arm, nodded toward Margaret, and his voice dropped suddenly. “Get her out of this. to faint in a minute. I guess I can find you if I want you. Good night.” And he turned sharply upon his heel to isste orders as rapidly as his tongue could move, while I blessed the condition that gained privileges for Fifth Avenue and Berkley Square whether they told the truth or not. Alice did not hesitate a moment, but hurried us unchallenged and un- checked to the taxi which had waited for Rollins. A policeman clearing a path for us opened the door. She’s goin’ COMEDY. 825 A buzz of comment went up as I gave the chap the direction to my ho- tel, intending to get some of my bag- gage there and move on elsewhere. [ had a glimpse of Della and Beans watching us across the great gorge of class distinction, the former sneering, the latter sullen. The ambulance drew out with its ghastly burden as we crowded into the cab and our chauffeur took advan- tage of the lane it made to follow it quickly out. He drove toward Eighth Avenue, and through the window I saw a small army of detectives and policemen dis- persing the crowd and keeping watch- ful eyes upon the entrances to a num- ber of flats in which Campbell was be- lieved to be secreted. I hoped he had got out—hoped it fervently—and that he was putting as many miles between himself and Parks as possible. His days as Rob Roy were over. Of that much I was sure as we trundled away from that scene of turmoil and disaster, none of us seemingly very anxious to speak. Alice, though white and tight of lip, had given no sign that she was in the least disturbed about Campbell’s safety; at least, not after Parks had failed to find him in the house. Margaret clung to me. ‘There was no sign of a tear; nothing save an agonizing question in her eyes. Her lips moved silently, as if she were saying the question over to her- self before letting us hear. “ Why—were they chasing—” “Don’t, dear. Not to-night, please. It's all right. Everything.” Her breath caught sharply, and I thought she smothered a sob as she looked abruptly out of the window. Finally the cab stopped. “Just a few minutes,” I whispered; and before 1 could open the door a gold-laced starter had performed the service for me. The second I reached the sidewalk I knew there was some mistake. It wasn’t my hotel at all. comilicloooks.com