Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 96: what you’re looking at

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

386 The Miss Sahib herself was incapable of giving any account of anything. She was in a state bordering on unconsciousness, which developed into the delirium of fever as soon as she was installed in her bed in the Inglis’s bungalow. Midge felt that all her life long she would never forget the stark horror with which she realized one morning that she might in her delirium have babbled of the things she had seen and done on that ter- rible and wonderful night. She was lying weak and inert, slowly emerging from the confused dreamland of fever, her face white and child-like on the pillows, her smoky sapphire eyes very large, haunted by their strange secrets. Voices came to her from the passage out- side her half open door. The doctor’s voice first. “« She is still very weak, Mrs. Inglis. I don’t think I should question her yet. I wouldn’t like her to receive any shock. We must wait for her own account of what happened.” Then Elsie’s voice answering, low but ex- cited: ‘‘ The natives are members of the White Horseman’s band. That is certain. Not a word can be got out of them. If Midge was really mixed up in it, we ought to know. He must have tried to kidnap her again—that’s what we think.” That was what gave Midge sudden strength, what nerved and fed and restored her great spirit that in its turn commu- nicated it to her little body. Elsie came into the room. Midge feigned sleep, and her friend roused her to see the doctor. From that moment she made startling progress. All her wits were gathered to- gether to find out if she had given any clue to what had happened. Apparently she had not. From Elsie’s first eager questionings, she found shelter in a most natural answer. “ T can’t remember—I feel so queer still.” It was true enough. She wanted time to put together a plausible story. She wanted to find out things herself. Fifteen days after she was brought down from the pass she was moving about the house, very shadowy in appearance, but growing stronger every day. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. One bad moment came the first morning, when Elsie settled her by the fire of pine cones and sycamore logs in the drawing- room. It had turned very cold and dark, and in the mountains there was continuous snow. Major Inglis came in to greet her and congratulate her, and Elsie began at once. “Now, Midge darling, do try to remem- ber what happened! Laurie ought to know. You see, you might be of the greatest help to our men. Did this wretch of a White Horseman try to kidnap you again?” “No,” said Midge. She had carefully prepared herself. Elsie’s manner grated on her, but she felt awfully mean when she looked into Major Inglis’s anxious eyes. “Tell us as far as you can what hap- pened,” he said. “It was very wrong of me,” Midge said mechanically. “ But I rode out early in the morning on Polly.” “You had to pass the guards,” Major Inglis said. ‘‘ They said they did see some- body—about four o’clock in the morning.” “Yes; I thought they would know me, or, at least, Polly; but they didn’t.” “You know we had to give strict orders that nobody should go out in the dark.” “* Yes—oh, I’ve been an awful nuisance, I know! It was hateful of me, ’II—I’ll go away as soon as I’m well enough.” ““ Don’t be absurd, Midge,” put in Elsie. “Of course, we were terrified when you didn’t come back, and when Polly turned up riderless, it was simply awful. But— what happened?” ‘““T came across some natives,” said Midge. As she looked at them both, she felt that they must know she was lying. “ I rode a good way up the pass, and it seems there was fighting going on and they took care of me. They were—very good to me. We had to spend a night in the hills, and when they were bringing me back, we met our men.” “You knew the natives were this White Horseman’s men, did you?” asked Major Inglis. cc Yes.”’ “Do you know what became of him?” ‘““No. They told me there was fighting, and it wasn’t safe for me.” Oo cComicboooks (©