All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 121: what you’re looking at

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

A THIEVES’ to want to tell the story, and felt that a gag would be the last straw. “No, I won't gag you. Diddering- ton could not tell you what he thinks about me if I did. is all I need. ‘There is your revolver, Mr. Parks.” There came three distinct but very light knocks upon the door. Campbell smiled and moved toward it noiselessly with a tread so light one wondered how he did it. “Thank you, gentlemen. You have been very kind. Nemember me to the countess, Didderington.” His hand went out to the knob care- lessly. “And the Gobbler.” He pulled the door open just a little and wedged himself into the space. ““ Good-by, Mr. Parks.” I can hear the deep bass of that adieu now—can see the laughter in his eyes, and behind that a touch of sadness. The height and breadth of him, the red of his hair and the tightening lines of his mouth, come back to ine—also the tip of a hat-plume behind him. That was all I saw of Alice Van THuysen. Then, in a moment, he had slipped from sight, and the door, closing silent- ly, shut them out. Parks did not move. I looked down at him, and found him staring at the door as if it fasci- nated him. Then, as I wondered why he did not shout or struggle, his head came round slowly and our eyes met. There was an awkward pause. “Tf you holler, Vl knock your block off!” I heard him say, and thought I dreamed it. Yet I struggled for my own safety to play my part. “ He'll get away if some one doesn't come and—” The look that came into Parks’s eyes halted me. It was a mixture of con- tempt and pity. “Get away! Why, you—you—oh, And a few minutes: COMEDY. 831 well — what’s the use? You don’t know any better.” As he strove to reach his vest-pocket he continued to growl: “He fooled you every way from the ace, and the minute you thought you were wise to him you took hin into a quiet Corner of a house this size and told him about it. Huh! And when he’s made monkeys of us inside of four walls, you think we’ve got a chance to catch up with him when he’s got the whole world to run about in. You oughta be pulled.” “Tm sorry,’ I murmured penitently. “All right. Ul take your word for it,’ he mumbled, then objected sharp- ly. ‘Don’t move away, you dope! Lean to me. ‘That’s better.” A little more striving to get at his waistcoat- pocket. ‘‘ Now we got it!” His knife was what he was after, and he fumbled with it till he got it open, while I leaned toward him as much as the cord would allow in an effort to slacken it a little. As he sawed industriously at our bonds his glance went frequently to- ward the door, as though he were in dread that some one might come in; and when he finally succeeded in cut- ting us loose, my sigh of relief was no more fervent than his. The handcuffs were a matter of a moment; and as we both stood up with the pieces of telephone - cord at our feet, Parks looked straight at me—so straight that I felt uncomfortable. “ Going back to England soon?”’ he asked gruffly. “Next Wednesday. funeral.” He looked relieved; but as he turned to pick up his revolver he stopped, scrutinized me again, and made his point more clear. “If you open your face about this to a livin’ soul, you'll never go back. Understand? ” “T won't say a word,” I assured him with more fervor than he dreamed of. “All right. Where's the way out?” He snatched up his revolver, then stepped back with a gasp, as if the thing After the comnlicloooks.com