All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 84: what you’re looking at

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

794 THE * He don’t cut any ice.’ His brows lowered and his hand went out to a push-button. “ Think it over and let me know the result in the morning.” A white-haired chap in uniform came in and saluted. “Take him away,’ Parks growled, and the turnkey took my arm and led me out. I spent a very restless night in a dark, cubby hole of a place, wondering incessantly whether I would get out in time to meet Margaret at half past ten the following morning. Parks’s threats could not keep me awake. I laughed at them. But a vision of Margaret—a little pale, per- haps, but hopeful—looking about her vainly for the man who had promised and did not come, grew more painfully distinct every minute. It did not soothe me a great deal to know that there was nothing criminal that could be proved against me. Even though I should succeed in getting in touch with the British con- sul, and rousing him on my behalf, it was a thousand to one that the red- tape would not unwind quickly enough for my needs. Applying to Campbell was too risky. Parks knew him, and doubtless he had studied the Gregarach, too. That I knew them “both” might set the de- tective’s mind off upon a line of thought which Rollins’s hint regarding the identity of the leader of the Rob Roy gang would serve to strengthen. I did not care to think of Rollins’s treachery. It led my mind into very unpleasant fields of thought. Campbell’s double-dealing seemed very near its end; and with that end must come chaos. ‘The man responsi- ble for it would not be likely to escape scatheless. The night dragged on, sixty hours to the minute it seemed, and some one who brought his heels down upon the flags in the passage, with the snap of an exploding percussion-cap, paced to and fro most of the time, making sleep still more impossible. ALL-STOR Y MAGAZINE. Upon my right some poor fright- ened creature whined at intervals in an eery fashion, while the chap on my left snored frightfully, and once I heed the sound of a sob. In the cell the air was heavy to the point of suffocation, and everything one touched was hard and unyielding —no sympathy about anything. When the dawn came my mind had found no relief. Margaret’s accusing eves were everywhere. [ven daylight did not dispel them; and, after that, with unreasonable speed flew on to- ward half past ten. About eight o'clock a uniformed chap brought me wretched coffee and rolls, which I would not touch. Ten minutes later another fellow came in and told me I was “ wanted.” He led me into the same room as before. Parks was there alone. The detective seemed to have had as little sleep as I. He sat at the desk in a leaden sort of way, growled at the fellow who had brought me in, so that he saluted and departed; then the detective tapped the desk for a nunute or two with a huge digit, while his gaze, heavy as his attitude, came round to me very slowly. me Wel? “T’d like to telephone the British consul as soon as his office opens,” I declared as calmly as possible. Parks ignored the remark pletely. “Have you thought it over?” he asked deliberately. There was nothing to think over.” “No? Your friend Rollins hasn’t got home yet.” I stared at him, unable to utter a syllable, then: “ You're quite sure of that?” “ Yes—and I guess you are, too.” * What do you mean? ” “ Nothin’ that you don’t under- stand,”’ he returned sharply. “‘ Rollins was last seen with you. You went into that place together by the front door. The lights go out. I find you making your getaway oyer the back comliclbooks.Com coln-