All-Story Weekly, Vol. 112, No. 1 — page 129: what you’re looking at

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GOOD REFERENCES, “ All right; we’ll go back and hunt her up,” he said. He was, in fact, rather pleased to have an excuse. “ And see to it that she is properly mar- ried to him,” added Aunt Caroline. Bill looked like a man about to choke. “What!” he shouted. “Certainly,” said his aunt. “ He’s a Stearns, I know; but what else is there to do? Even a bad name is better than none.” ‘“ Aunt Caroline, you’re crazy!” “TI was never more sane in my life, Wil- liam. The poor child must marry him. I’m sorry, of course; but it ts better than not marrying him at all.” ‘““Marry Pete Stearns?” Bill resembled a large and ferocious apimal, perhaps a lion. ‘“‘ Marry him? Not-in a million years will she marry him!” Aunt Caroline studied her nephew in astonishment. ‘Would you deny her the poor consola- tion of a name?” she demanded. “ Of course she will marry him. I shall person- ally attend to it.” | “You'll do nothing of the kind,’ said Bill savagely...“ You'll keep out of it.” “Order the boat back to Larchmont at once,” was Aunt Caroline’s answer. ‘“‘ Not for that purpose.” “To Larchmont!” Had she been taller, Aunt Caroline at that moment would have been imperious. She gestured with a sweep of the arm worthy of a queen. The gesture, it hap- pened, was not in the direction of Larch- mont at all, but she did not know that. Bill shook his head grimly. ‘William Marshall, I propose to be obeyed.” . Ordinarily, when Aunt Caroline reached that, point, Bill yielded the field to her. But this was no ordinary occasion. She proposed to marry her social secretary to Pete Stearns—/ts secretary! Where was ever such an outrageous idea conceived? Again he shook his head. He could find no words to voice his scornful defiance. Suddenly Aunt Caroline wilted into a deck chair. “TI wish to go to my stateroom,” she said, in a weak voice. ‘I feel faint. Send for my maid.” 119 Bill departed on a run. The maid brought smelling salts, and after a minute of snifing Aunt Caroline arose and walked slowly toward the saloon entrance, through which she disappeared. She ignored Bill’s offer of an arm. \The boss of the yacht Sunshine, having satisfied his lust for defiance, ran forward and mounted the bridge two steps at a time. ‘Back to Larchmont!” he commanded. He was still standing on the bridge as they entered the harbom By the time they were well inside, darkness had fallen. ‘““Are we to anchor, sir?” inquired the sailing master. “I don’t know,” said Bill shortly. ‘“ Take a turn up where we were moored a while ago.” a But before they had proceeded very far up the harbor he realized the futility of it. No sane persons would be swimming about after dark looking for a yacht whose return was purely conjectural. “ Head her outside again,” ordered Bill. The sailing master shrugged, gave a com- mand, and the Sunshine began swinging in a circle. ‘ After we get outside, sir, which way?” “IT don’t know. I haven’t decided. I'll tell you later. Damn it, don’t ask so many questions.” EE CHAPTER XXI. THE LAST BATTLE IN LARCHMONT. HEN Pete Stearns went in quest of a limousine he had, of course, merely employed a figure of speech that seemed to befit the raiment of his fair charge. In his practical mind he knew that it did not matter whether it was a limou- sine or a lizzie, so long as it was capable of locomotion and was not locked. The grounds through which he now walked were less familiar to him than those which con- tained the orchard on the other side of the hedge, yet he sensed the general direction of the house that he knew they must con- Through the darkening shadows he wend- ed his way confidently; he felt sure that if there was danger ahead he would detect it cCoOmiclbooks C©