Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 19, 1924 — page 93: what you’re looking at

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

THE HANDWRITING ON THE WALL. by accident three figures of a phone call She made Friday night and I’ve been right on her trail ever since. Wait ‘ll you hear!” When he had finished, George said: “ My son, you’ve got something at last. I think Wicks took the-logical view; she didn’t recognize him, nor see you to-night, so it’s a safe bet she didn’t make her get- away just now when it might start a hue and cry after her. She’s gone back to her room, but in the morning early she'll invent some excuse to beat it, and then is when we'll have to be on the job. Mine is gone, for I’m satisfied Wicks is who he declares he is; his photograph was on that foreign passport. Still, if Monckton hired him to trail Richard, why was he trying to sneak into the Manor like a thief himself? With the old man gone, his case is finished.” ‘‘ Whatever his game is, he’ll try it again so you'd better stick arcund with me,” Phil advised. ‘‘ There’s nothing we can do to- night without rousing that house and declar- ing ourselves, but I’m going to hang about and be. right on the spot with the first streak of dawn. If Lucy beats it Dll follow her and if I don’t show up to report to Cliff before you do, tell him everything I’ve told you.” “T will,” George promised. “I ought to send word in now, but I think I’d better keep on Wicks’s trail and find out what he’s up to. It won’t be difficult to pick him up again if he tries to lay low, now that I know who he is. I’ve had more sleep than I needed in the last twenty-four hours and ’ T'll watch while you take a nap, if you like. Look what that confounded wire did to my frock coat!” Phil attempted to sound him as to his own experience with Wicks, but George maintained a dignified and noncommittal re- serve on that score and he finally gave it up and took his confrere’s advice. When he awoke the stars had disappeared and a faint pink streaked the east. Together they crept down the turnpike once more and through the break in the wall. No one was stirring as they made their way cautiously around behind the garage and stable to a point where they could command a view of the back door of the house and the tradesmen’s drive- way, which led to a gate far in the rear of the estate. A single dog gave voice, but was soon quiet and they settled themselves behind a screening honeysuckle arbor to await the day. It came sooner than they had anticipated and with it signs of renewed life in the house where the owner was lying in state. The back door opened and a stout woman and a young girl, evidently the kitchenmaid, could be glimpsed moving about within. They were joined presently by a very old woman, and then three men appeared. “That must be Nora, the housemaid,” Phil remarked softly. ‘Lucy told me she was nearly seventy.” ‘“‘ And there’s Peter Downes, the butler, and Jim Ricks, the old valet. I talked to them both at the town house on Friday,” George supplemented. “I don’t know who that third man is—the footman, probably. If Lucy’s in the house I wonder why she doesn’t appear?” “ Look out, George!” Phil warned sud- denly. ‘‘ There are three or four men com- ing out of that tenant cottage; the garden- ers, I suppose, and here comes the garage helper. If there’s no sign of Lucy soon ’m going up to the house and ask for her.” But that step proved unnecessary, for in a few minutes more the girl appeared. She wore the gray cape and small hat with the red feather, and carried a trim black bag. “You were right, she’s making her get- away!’’ exclaimed Phil beneath his breath. ‘“ She’s shaking hands with the butler— there, now she’s coming! I'll let her get five minutes’ start and then trail. Good-by, George, and good luck!” The slim, graceful figure walked quickly past their hiding place without a sidelong glance and down to the rear gate, pausing _ to close it after her, and turned in the op- posite direction from the village. When she had disappeared Phil also made his way to the gate, but in a roundabout fashion, dodging under every tree that offered pro- tection from observation. There was a low pedestrian gate beside the taller one. He vaulted it, and then stood staring down the lane in the direction Lucy had taken. It was long and straight and white, with the back walls of different estates. lining it on CORMICLOOKS 063 (S@) %, at DNS he ot i, fe wh Ries ‘i hy b . Asaligded to Me Miko ly ot DO : ae Th hs ie) tae A Sa AS DE Gal tes hs arta ay bi 3 y - ¥) Ay SANS a