Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 55: what you’re looking at

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

THE PASSING OF man’s face or the still more unnerving sight of the weapon which had killed him. ‘“ Poor old chap!” he murmured. “ Poor old uncle! To think I should find you like this!” He went nearer, with a curious timidity, as if fearing he might arouse one who slept. ‘And to think that you, who were so kind to me all my life, should have spoken so harshly when we parted,” he said, still in that low tone of self communing. “ If only we could have understood one another. If only— Dash it all! Ill never forgive _myself if anything I said upset you! But I couldn’t give up Dorothy—not for all the money in the world. It was too much to ask of a fellow. And the alternative! That was not to be thought of either. Oh, damn! Why couldn’t things have worked out dif- ferently!” Winter, who missed no phase of these emotional crises, saw that Davidson drew in his breath sharply, and moistened his lips with his tongue at that reference to Dorothy Temple. “More complications!” he concluded. But he only said aloud: ‘This is a bad business from every point of view, Mr. Glen. However, so much time has been wasted already that I must ask you to repress your quite natural sorrow. Please do not touch Mr. Lanson’s body— or anything else. When found, he was ly- ing face downwards on the table, though seated just where he is. Now, I take it that during your talk with him, whatever it dealt with, there was no other person present?” “ Not to my knowledge, most certainly,” was the answer, given collectedly enough. “My uncle could hardly have wished our conversation to be overheard. He wanted to force me—” “ Never mind that now. What I want conversation to be overheard. He wanted to make sure of is that no one else could possibly be in this room. What time did you leave Mr. Lanson?” “Tt must have been after nine o’clock. We all dined together at eight. Then uncle asked me to join him in the library. That would be about ten minutes to nine. He said a good many things, quietly at first, CHARLES LANSON, 845 but rather heatedly when he realized I was not going to do as he wished. Then he lost his temper, and ordered me out of the castle. I, too, got hot under the collar, and stamped off. I just grabbed a bag, threw in a few necessities, hopped into a car, and was in the Crown Hotel by 9:15. All rather melodramatic stuff on each side. I thought him one of the best, and he—” “Not earlier than 9:15?” interrupted Winter. ‘“T really don’t think so.” “ Then you didn’t go to your room in the hotel, because I saw you at that hour?” “No. I wanted to cool off, and hated the idea of being alone. So I lounged into the billiard room, and there I met Denasch. I don’t know even yet what number my room is. The hotel people said they had one at liberty, and that was all I cared about.” - Winter glanced behind the screen, but did not examine that part of the room closely. He would wait for daylight and a magnify- ing glass. He gave more heed to the nearest suit of armor—that from which the fatal dagger had been abstracted. ‘“ Why,” he commented aloud, “ any man_ of average size could conceal himself here. Are they all alike?” “No,” replied Davidson. ‘Some are complete coats of mail. Others, to save weight, and give greater freedom of move-. ment, protected only the front of the body, and were buckled to pieces of leather. I remember—”’ He broke off abruptly, but had the good sense to anticipate the imminent question. “ One day, when Miss Irene came in to see her father about some trivial thing, she was examining an edition of Balzac over there”—he pointed to a bookcase on the right—“ and she disappeared suddenly. Neither Mr. Lanson nor I, nor Mr. Trevor, who will recall the incident, missed her for a few seconds, and we were positive she had not gone out. We were puzzled, al- most startled, when she laughed at our bewilderment. She had simply picked up her skirts and hidden behind that Venetian suit.’ “Js it conceivable that Mr. Lanson him- self could have brought some one into the COMiicloo Ss ©