All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 67: what you’re looking at

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

& THIEVES’ to most unusual proportions by ru- mors of a panic. As a matter of fact, Rand Island stock was not important enough to effect the general market, and only in that wild hour of its rise and fall did it excite the exchange to a frenzy that had almost died away in my short absence from the “ Street.” Growing tired of watching the fu- tile mob, and finding no relief in the antics of the curb-brokers, I sought a restaurant and lunched alone. Groups of men, brokers all, seated about the round tables, talked in whis- pers, as if they were afraid that the other groups would hear what they said. The atmosphere of the place was mysterious and volcanic. It got on my nerves, and [ couldn’t eat. I think I forgot to tip the waiter. I know I did forget to drop my ticket in the chopper of the subway, and the colored gentleman on guard called me back loudly and insinuatingly. A local train carried me to Fifty- Ninth Street, and I wandered aimless- ly up Central Park West, wondering how on earth I could communicate with Margaret at once. An irresistible desire to see her and explain had led me up-town, and I thought that if she could send mes- sages to me when Rollins was out there could be no danger if I were to send one to her. First, however, I thought I'd try the telephone. It would be perfectly proper to inquire if Miss Rollins were improving. Doubtless I could learn from the reply how the land lay. Finding a private booth and learn- ing Rollins’s telephone number from the telephone-book, I secured the con- nection and was answered by a rather pleasant-voiced female, who, the mo- ment I said “ Hello!” asked liurriedly —even roughly: “This is Mr. Van Huysen, isn’t it?” For one second I hesitated—and I did not wish to give my own name. =] Yes2s i tried to imitate Ralph’s somewhat high-pitched tones. ‘“ Who is speaking, please?” COMEDY. 777 A low laugh came along the wire quite clearly. “Is my voice so very different on the telephone? I'd recognize yours ten thousand miles away.”’ I was glad of that, but I did not say so. The voice at the other end of the wire was not Margaret’s. “How is Miss Rollins? ter, I hope? ”’ “Oh, much!’ came the answer, with a hint of ridicule in it. ‘ She’s convalescing in the park somewhere with your sister, so you needn't be afraid to talk to me. I am at the library phone with the door closed, and I’ve been praying all day that you'd call when she was out.” . I almost dropped the receiver, “"Where’s everybody?” I carefully. “The Jap’s flirting with Gretchen and the cook's gone out for a dill pickle or something. ‘There’s nobody bothering about me or what I’m doing. Ts it all right for to-morrow night? ”’ Without realizing it, I was startled out of ny “ part,” “Yes, I suppose so.’ “What's the matter?’ came the query sharply, and the tone became harsh, “ Ain't you feeling good?” “Not very—and the phone, you know—rather dangerous—what ?”’ “Say! Who's that talking now? You ain't —that ain’t Ralph’s voice! Who are you? Who—my Gawd!”’ It was only a whisper that trailed away into a horrified silence. I hung up the receiver and went to look for Margaret in the park. Much bet- asked CHAPTBR XX. THE BENCHES IN THE PARK. Hap I met Ralph Van Huysen then I would possibly have been foolish enough to discuss the matter, with him in terms more forcible than polite. Though it was really no business of me I was very much annoyed about ; in fact, went so oe as, ta vow, that omicloookks. com