Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 188: what you’re looking at

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

§62 _ber. The very worst had not happened; practically everything else possible had happened. That, broadly, was the situa- tion. He glanced about his living-room and found no sign of William; he smiled bit- terly. William was hiding, back there somewhere; farther back, although William did not know it, William’s wife was -also hiding. | “Come out, Bill!” Thomas called weak- ly, as, exhausted, he dropped into the big armchair. William did not immediately respond. Thomas shrugged his shoulders and. stared at the floor for a little. Very swiftly, such was his selfish nature, the broad aspect of the disaster was van- ishing; the immediate implication of _him- _ self in this evening and its consequences bore down upon Thomas. Largely, it was all his own fault! If he had never elected to save Mary, nothing at all would have happened. Although Mary, too, had been to blame —Mary and her infernally jealous hus- band. Thomas knit his fingers and stared hard- er. Thus far, to-night, he had assumed too much blame. Well, he was done with all that now. Yes, sir, he was done with all that! He had sighed over the vanished Mary until Peter Noble — yes, Peter, who had been the real cause of all this—had felt called upon to rebuke him. Thomas smiled wanly at the floor. He had erred as to his own feelings this after- noon; he saw the light now: if the nex year, or even the next ten years dragged along without permitting him even a single glimpse of Mary, not one complaint would ever leave his lips. There are things, there are people, however lovely, of whom one gets enough! Thomas knit his fingers and nodded at the medallion in the center of the nearest rug. He had erred; he had paid. How much more was he to pay? That the idiotic feud really should be al- lowed to blaze out again seemed impossi- ble. With care and patience, to-night, to- morrow, thereafter, the exciting causes of ARGOSY-ALESTORY WEEKLY. its renewal would have to be explained away, and by himself. . People might have been slightly dement- ed this evening; they would not remain that way. They would begin to think. Hayes, for example, would come to Thomas again, or send for Thomas, and demand the truth, down to the last detail, and Thomas would have to tell it. Sally Noble, if he knew Sally’s capacity for probing, would reenter the fray and de- mand the truth—the cold, real truth, and Thomas would have to tell it. Sally’s father, coming to his senses, would work his way back to Thomas for the fullest particulars of the ghastly slurs that had been cast in his daughter’s direc- tion, and it would be up to Thomas to fur- nish more of the truth. And Weldon Pitt’s father, and Weldon himself, were bound to demand of Thomas —Thomas’s head came up with a jerk! He’d be hanged if he’d take the job of ex- plaining it all, single handed and unsop- ported! Why, if he tried to work out a lie that would still keep Mary covered, if he even told the truth without Mary at hand to verify it, they’d lock him up as a maniac! No, whatever their plans, individual or collective, might be at this moment, Wil- liam and Mary would simply have to con- cel them and remain right here in Braydon until the mess was cleared up. and Thomas. himself corroborated. That much was dead sure: if either or both of them missed fifty steamers, they’d have to favor Bray- don with their society until this was all over satisfactorily; and by way of a good beginning it behooved Bill and his bride to get together at once and smooth away any. slight misunderstanding that might seem to yawn between them. Thomas arose with a scowl. - ‘“‘ Bill!’ he called again. ‘It’s all right now. You can come out. They’re not looking for you.” Bill declined to answer. Thomas thrust his hands in his pockets and sneered. That, to be sure, was the way with most of these fire-eaters! Throw one good scare into them and fright paralyzed them com- pletely. | COL @ NDOO|KKS Colin