The All-Story, March 1914 — page 151: what you’re looking at

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

De Lysle Ferree Cass CHAPTER I. ONE GOOD DEED, OUNT FLORENZ sat in his sumptuous bachelor apartments holding the cold muzzle of revolver against the side of his head. The forefinger which stole round the hair-trigger did not tremble in the slightest degree. The young nobleman could see that plainly enough in the murror before which he sat. Certainly he was not at all nervous over the fact that in a second or two more he would, by his own volition, be hurtled into an unknown eternity. Count Florenz wore a dressing-gown over the few clothes he had donned after bathing. The robe was pale green, which was becoming to his high color, and, in some way, intensified the aristocratic sharpness of his features. “T will make a handsome corpse for them all to look at,” reflected he, with red lips slightly satiric in mockery of his tinage in the glass. ‘“ Heigh-ho! It seems that one cannot even die with- out the labor of thought about it. I wonder what everybody will say when they hear that Florenz von Regenstein has gone out to join his forebears?” 624 The young man’s sneer was nota pleasant thing to see as he slowly lowered the pistol for the third time since sitting down and cast his lack luster eves about him. Everything was in order. Old Hein rich had seen to that before milord dismissed hini in the morning, “You will not return here until ten in the evening,” Count Florenz had told him, regardless of the aged serm- tors gape. ‘“* You understand me?— not until ten.” “But, sir ’’—Heinrich called him’ sir.’ having been in the family for’ years—"‘ but, sir, will you not need me to lay out your things for the function at the Hotburg to-night?” “No.” said Count Florenz shortly, * T am going elsewhere.” “TElsewhere, milord!” exclaimed the old man blankly. “ Then may I ake so bold as to inquire where, for assuredly his imperial highness will Miss you, and there will be telephoning to discover your whereabouts. Shall I tell them that you are at the Roulette- halle, milord?” “No; I shall never go there again.” fe “Never, sir? cried the old maz, with an unexpected quaver of joy COmichoooks.com