All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 117: what you’re looking at

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

ay A ‘THIEVES’ and I spent most of it keeping away the reporters and explaining to Mar- garet several matters, by no means pleasant. but which necessarily had to be made clear to her. I told her of the Gobbler, of the marriage Campbell had contemplated, of the fate of her jewelry, and the ori- gin of my bad eye—everything but the fact that her father had plotted for my life. When I had completed the lines of her mouth were a little hard. Her fingers gripped mine listlessly, and even the ringing of a telephone - bell did not send the dull, pained look out of her eyes. I rose and, going to the instrument, called quietly: “ Hello!” “ Hello! Didderington? ” Yes.” I did not have to ask to whom the deep bass voice at the other end of the wire belonged. “Mrs. Van Huysen would like to have your apologies and those of the countess. Come right over, will you?” “Just a minute.” I turned toward Margaret. “Your aunt wants us to go over and apologize. Shall we?” “ Not to apologize,” she answered, and her lips closed firmly upon it. “ The countess says she won't apolo- gize,’ I told Campbell. “ Upon that understanding we shall be over imme- diately.” A soft laugh came along the wire. “Good! Make it in ten minutes.” We ran the gantlet of inquisitive eyes going out of the hotel and into the Van Huysens’s. There were reporters lying in wait, and a more than usual crowd of the sort of people who seem to have noth- ing else to do except to take a violent interest in other people’s affairs. Randor, imperturbable as usual, let us in and showed us into the morning- room, where we found Alice alone; and, as she rose to smile us welcome, I saw that there was a doubt upon her mind about something or other. COMEDY. 827 She avoided all reference to the pre- vious evening’s happenings, said her mother would be down in a few moments, and for those few moments I felt peculiarly ill at ease, as if some- thing should happen, but didn’t. Just as I was on the point of asking her about the nurse and maid the door opened, and my single eye hurriedly avoided meeting the entrance of Mrs. Van Huysen, whose pallor was ac- centuated by the black of the gown she wore, but whose eyes and voice tried to make light of her ordeal. Behind her came — the nurse with the Gobbler! And then Campbell. Margaret ran forward, to be swept into a motherly embrace; and while I stood aside, feeling uncommonly un- comfortable, my wife was introduced to her half brother, who did not seem to care a rap about it. Alice and her mother circled about the “ ceremony,’ seemingly surprised that Margaret asked no questions about the boy, and I found Campbell suddenly very near to me. He nodded toward the door and I followed him out of the room into an- other — the library — which was far enough away to give us the strictest privacy, and, judging by the careful way in which my companion closed the door, he evidently had something very important to say. There was no sign of Ralph. “How did you manage that last night? ’’ I demanded at once. He grunted derisively, and, in spite of the suggestion in his manner that the explanation was an awful fag, he told me that his chauffeuring rig-out had been in the kitchen where he had shed it when he got into the house. And he entered the same way as he went out—by way of Schmidt’s saloon on Eighth Avenue. A ladder over the back wall and an alleyway to Schmidt’s back door formed the principal means of exit, and he had to get into his leathern coat, leggings, and wigs on the way. comiicloooks.com