Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 18: what you’re looking at

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

174 IT assure you—a most remarkable mistake! —but don’t cry about it, child!” “ Most—remarkable!” Craven said dis- tinctly. “What?” snapped the president. “Tt might be well to open that book of your life again, Thomas, and let us read another page or two, eh?” Mr. Berford walked straight to him. “You are implying that I seek to hide something of a disgraceful nature, in con- nection with this girl?” “Tam implying nothing at all, Thomas,” Craven said, just as steadily and, I’m bound to say, just as dangerously. ‘‘ We have all heard what the girl said. She knows you Avi fli’? She does not!” “ Berford, don’t be ridiculous. We’re not fools!” The president threw out his hands sud- denly. ‘““ Gentlemen!” he cried passionately. “TI ask your attention for just one minute. I want to assure you, upon my solemn word of honor, that I never saw this young woman. before she entered this room!” “Well, we know that, Tom,” Bennett said soothingly. ‘‘ You needn’t protest like that. The young lady has made a very odd blunder, of course, and that’s all and—now, now, my child! Aha! We’s not going to cry any more, eh? That’s better! Yes, indeed, that’s better!” She looked up at him trustfully and the good old soul beamed down at her. ‘““You—believe in justice, don’t you?” she whispered. ‘“T should say so!” ‘Even for a girl who is all alone and friendless?”’ Mr. Bennett blinked at her. “ Ah—certainly! For everyone!” lie said. And the girl kept on looking at him and her little hand fluttered into his. “T can trust you!” she said. “Most decidedly, you can!” said Mr, Bennett, and pulled up another chair to her side and sat down with considerable de- termination. ‘ Now, my dear! Let’s get right down to the bottom of this affair and clear it up!” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, ‘‘ There’s a good idea!” Craven rasped. “TI think so,” said Mr. Bennett, and glared at him. “ My child! We'll begin at the very beginning. What is your name?” The girl looked at him, and turned and shot the strangest glance at our president and then dropped her eyes. “Ask Tom!” she said. : “Eh? Well—well—all right, then! Tom—er—-do you happen to know her name?” “How in—ah-—-how should I know it?” Mr. Berford said, fiercely. “ That’s no answer!” Craven scabenittesk: “‘TIsn’t it? Here’s an answer, then: NVo/ I do not know her name!” “Tom!” cried the girl. Mr. Craven gave an evil little smile and shook his head. “She knows yours pretty well, though, doesn’t she?” ‘“‘So do ten thousand other people, Mr. Craven.” “True, Berford. But none of the other nine thousand, nine hundred and _ ninety- nine are here inquiring whether you’re ashamed of them! Get on with the ex- amination, Bennett!” “I’m trying to do that! Well—ah—let me see. You’re—ah—quite sure that this Mr. Berford is the Mr. Berford you have in mind?” The girl fairly whirled on him. Her eyes were big and round and out- raged; her bosom heaved; taken all in all she was so startling at that moment that Mr. Bennett sat up and puffed. “Sure?” she cried. “Sure? Do you suppose that any normal woman ever for- gets—”’ She stopped there. You could have heard the smallest pin in the world drop just then. The first sound was her little gulp, as she covered her eyes again. Craven was leaning right across the table. ©Yese”? he said. “Yes? Forgets what?” The girl only sobbed. “Yes, my dear?” Mr. Bennett said, en- couragingly. ‘‘ What is it that—er—a nor- mal woman never forgets?” ‘“'You—ask Tom!” said the girl. “ Well—ah—” COMME OOKSa(OLA