Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

900 It was heaven’s own music, coming through soft night. It was—well, it was Mary herself! Bartley Greer shut his eyes tight and opened them again and stared at the tele- phone. A dazzling veil seemed to be lift- ing swiftly from his vision. It was like the passing of a fever! And as the veil lifted higher, this libe- rated vision of Bartley’s widened dumfound- ingly. Beyond any peradventure, Mary was the sweetest, most adorable woman ever born into this world—destined eternally to be as remote from himself as any planet, of course, but no less adorable on that ac- count. And there was a great and con- fusing sweetness about Mary’s sister, too, and there were as well a number of less lov- able qualities which whizzed irresistibly into Bartley’s consciousness, and there took their permanent place. Beyond all sense and recson it might be, but five minutes ago—since the thing could be safely conceded in this remarkable min- ute—he had been madly infatuated with Prudence Severn; whereas now and for all time to come he owned quite honestly to a liking for that undependable young per- son so very mild that it verged on pure distaste! She was laughing again. Her small and graceful body thrown back on the cushions of the divan, she was laugh- ing loudly and mockingly—and the funny thing about it was that, heard by sane ears, it was anything but a musical laugh. ‘“‘ Bartley, you poor half witted creature!” she cried flatteringly. ‘“ You have no brains at all, have you?” Mr. Greer shook his head. “Tf you mean my falling for that, you’re right,” he said quietly. ‘‘ But I warn you of one thing, Prudence; that’s my last per- formance along just those lines.” The girl glanced up contemptuously and shook her head. “No, it’s not,” she said. ‘ You fall for any old thing, any old time!” ““T assure you—”’ “Oh, but you do! I'll prove it to you: you were simple enough to let my man pick your pockets, just as I’d planned.” ‘Your man!” Bartley gasped. “ Do you ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. mean that I’ve been fool enough to let Rolf go through me and—” Rolf?” the young woman cried angrily. “ Certainly not! Why, my Rolf—why, how dare you! No, I’m talking about my pick- pocket man now, you know. Don’t under- stand, do you? Well, Ill try to make it so clear that even you will get it,’’ Prudence sighed. “You don’t know old Jimmy Waters?” “T do not.” “TI do, though. He’s a darling, too. He’s been doing night police reporting for twenty years and he knows half the crooks in town. You see, I was pretty sure about you, Bart- ley, but not absolutely sure; but I knew that if you did come from dad you’d be certain to have a supply of new fifty dol- lar bills concealed somewhere about you, be- cause that’s the way dad always draws money from the bank—always in new fifties. ‘Well, then,” Prudence pursued, “ the object of the game was to discover whether you were upholstered with new fifties or not. I tried to have you buy me something yesterday that would bring out one of them, and that didn’t work. And then, this morn- ing while I was trying to make you admit that you were on dad’s pay roll, the bright idea came. “So I had you wait at half past four just where you’d be handy and then I found Jimmy Waters and teased him. He didn’t a bit want to do it at first, but—oh, he likes me. He looked up his favorite pick- pocket and had him go and clean you out as you stood, Bartley—and he telephoned down not three minutes before you arrived, and, surely enough, you were guilty!” the younger Miss Severn stated, with a grin that was both contemptuous and contented. “Then, to make assurance doubly sure, I had you telephone Mary—and that’s that!” She sat back, shaking her head in sweet amazement that one could be so stupid as had been Bartley Greer. And she was right! Young Mr. Greer neither smiled nor scowled, nor asked a single question nor offered a single comment. “TI have grasped it,” he said dryly. “ Now if you'll be good enough to tell me how I’m to get that money back—” Ccomicbooks (©)