All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

804 THE can’t be set in motion by the poor. It costs too much. The seedy plaintiff is sneered at the minute he appears. Jus- tice, like any commodity, is bought and paid for. “That Varelli woman had_ sense enough to remember that this morning. She did not .recognize me simply be- cause she forgot her hatred to remem- ber that I am her only hope of de- fense. Her life hasn't held much for which to be thankful; and if that beast of a husband of hers dies, the least she can expect is a life sentence —if we don’t buy some justice for her. I must run down and see my friend Seton Tait about it. He’s rather clever in affairs of that sort.” He went to the window, and I fol- lowed him and saw Parks’s man still in evidence. “\Vhat’s your idea in sending your man out of town?” I asked. “ Watch.” The valet came in, said he was ready, and was told to depart at once. We stood at the window, studying the hat and shoulders, and presently saw the valet appear, carrying a suit- case with Rk. M. C. marked in white upon it. The hat and shoulders became sud- denly animated, and resolved them- selves into a man of large proportions, who carefully followed the suit-case on board a trolley. “That means there are two of them,” Campbell declared. ‘‘ And the other, if I had my car brought here, wouldn’t bother hiring a taxi to fol- low me unless you were with ine. Now, of course, he thinks we are going to separate and that I shall follow the suit-case. The man we don’t see will follow you.” Meck “Youre a suspicious character. The police blotter says so, and Parks thinks you are much more so. But our friend down-stairs only thinks he will follow you. When I walk out of here and stroll across the park to the Van Huysens’ he will know that I am not ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. going to walk to anywhere that my valet needs a trolley-car to reach. -He will flounder about for half a minute or so, wishing there were two of him, and then—he will follow me across the park to the Van Huysens’. Five min- utes later you will leave here and go up to Della’s. That is her address.” He scribbled the number upon a card and | took it blankly. “And then what?” “Stay there till nine - thirty this evening, then come down to th Street. Della will give you Margaret's jewelry, and you may bring it down with you. You can’t very well go back to your hotel — at least, not comfort- ably. The management would prob- . ably tell you to pay your bill and get out. Don't forget. Five minutes after I leave, followed by his nibs down- stairs, you skip up-town. The trolley passing here will take you almost to the door.” I agreed blindly; because he held the key to my future and there was nothing else to do. Standing by the window after he had left me, I saw him stride forth and walk directly across the street, to stroll leisurely toward the nearest park entrance. A taxi crawled into view and after him. Campbell turned into the park, and some one got out of the taxi and fol-. lowed. It was all very obvious—when pointed out beforehand. Then the telephone bell shrilled. CHAPTER QUITE UNEXPECTED. Tne sound startled me, and for a minute I did not know whether to an- swer or not. While I was considering it rang again more insistently. Proving how [ felt toward it, I ac- tually approached on tiptoe and, gin- gerly taking up the receiver, called quietly : “Eel? comicloooks.com