The All-Story, March 1914 — page 165: what you’re looking at

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

638 time he looked at me. They wouldn’t if 1 had been working for him, I felt sure; but, in my present business, they did, good and plenty. He was looking at me now, and my eyes felt like Noah’s dove the first time out. “Man! How wet and cold you are!” he said, scowling. ‘‘ Go into the little vestibule you fell into and see if there isn't a coat back of the door. IL always used to keep one there.” I did; and when I came back he was chuckling. “ Now see if you cant find enough clothes to fit you out in that bag marked ‘J. T.’ over there. I know Todd doesn't intend wearing them again.” He was mighty generous, | thought, as I drew on a pair of checked pants in the hall: or did he think Id take ‘em anyway aud he might as well stop my drizzling round over lus velvet rugs first off. When I went back I found him trying to scratch his eye with his cheek; and did it for him. “Thanks! What a gentle knave it is; he said the last under his breath, but I heard, and didn't know whether to be mad or pleased. ‘“Now, before you begin the serious business of the night— Man! Man!” He stopped and looked up at me, smi- ling, wondering. “ What a setting for a crime!” “There ain't going to be any crime!” I blustered; “just a little evening up—" “ This lonely place *“—he went right on as though he hadn't heard me— ‘this dark and barricaded house! The storm without and I within, trussed up like a pheasant ready for the spit.” “The what ?—Lord, man! you don't think Pd—” I began, wondering what kind of a blackguard he took me for; but he went right on: “The time — that smallest hour of night when ghosts do walk and graves do yawn and spew their dead—’ “Cut it!’ I felt my hair raising. “And, master of it all, a big and burly ruffian of gentle, nunlike minis- THE ALL-STORY AAGAZINE. tering, and eyes as soft and guilelesg as those ot kine.” “Stow the poetry! What 1s it you want?” | I was getting kind of riled at his making fun of me; seeing which, he laughed and said natural: “T want a drink.” “Of which?” “Water. You'll find it on ice in the kitchen.”’ I found both, and was Just pourmg some into a pitcher when he called: “You don’t see anything else on the table, do your” 6é Yes.” “What?” “ A corkscrew and two empty bot. “ Anything else? ” “A basket. It’s got — yes! it is— it's a basket of food!” I felt my mouth water. “Let's seer” I took it in and set it on a chair bee side him. ‘Let's see?” he said again; and his eyes looked as eager as my stomach felt. 1 pulled up the table and began set: ting the things out on it. “Chicken ‘n pie ’n doughnuts ‘n—” I stopped my drooling with a chunk of ham. ‘“ Ain't had nothing to eat since morning,’ I apologized. “And I since noon. bite!” I did, and he wasn’t very dainty about it, either; just plain man. “Good! But rather dry, isn't it?” ‘Wish we had some coftee,” I mun- bled with the heel of a loaf crosswise in my throat. “They had it for supper: I smelled te “ What'll I cook it on?” I asked. “T think they used the chafing-dish, Don’t set the house afire with it.” I didn't: but I burned the oilcloth off the table, and scorched the towels I tried to whip the cussed stuff out with, not being used to such exuberant fuel. comichooks.co Give ine a