Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 20: what you’re looking at

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

<— Pd Plan tee —s ee ar there was contempt on his lips as he stepped to Isaac Craven and tapped his arm. ‘Pardon me, Mr. Craven,” he said sharply, ‘‘ but I’m not on trial here and you are not the prosecutor. Whatever all this poppycock may be, it concerns me and since this girl is to be examined, /’// examine her!” | He could be convincing when he wanted to be; Mr. Craven stared an instant and pulled down the corners of his mouth and then backed away a pace or two; and the president looked down at the girl and grinned. “Come!” he said briskly, ‘ There’s something behind it. What’s the answer, young woman?” And the girl looked up at him and said not one solitary word with her lips; and yet, as she had done before, she said so much with her eyes that even Mr. Bennett began to fuss and frown uneasily. “Talk, please!” Mr, Berford barked. “ There’s a limit to patience, you know!” “Yes, know there is, Tom!” the girl said, with some difficulty. ‘“‘ There was a lin—limit to mine. That’s why I—came here!” * Well, what d’ye mean by that?” roared the president. I’d never seen him lose his poise so easily as he did that after- noon. “ Stop bullyragging her!” Craven shout- ed. “ Stop that!” “Tm not bullyragging her! What do you mean? Speak quite frankly, please! I have nothing to conceal! Well?” The girl twisted her handkerchief; it seemed that she was getting ready to cry again. “ Well, I mean that—that if you don’t want to tell them—I mean that—that I don’t want to. It—isn’t my place, Tom! You should tell them!” “Umum! Umum!” said Mr. Craven. ““T haven’t the most remote idea of what you're talking about!” the president snapped. “I have nothing to tell them, about you or about anything else. If you have, by all means tell them!” And the bosom began to heave again. “ You—-said you’d never even seen me before!” the girl cried, - ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, ‘It’s the plain truth. I never did!” Then she looked up suddenly. She looked squarely at him—and, thundera- tion! how pretty she was! She looked at him, through him, into him! Her lips parted, her eyes grew bigger and, somehow, terrified. “Tom!” she breathed, and they all bent forward to catch her words. ‘‘ Tom, you haven’t actually forgotten the ninth of January, in nineteen twenty?” CHAPTER IV. JANUARY 9, 1920. ¥ course, I know him so well, and that O may have had something to do with it; but even if 1 hadn’t known him, { think that blank, perplexed expression of Mr. Berford’s would have been nearly all the proof I needed of his innocence. It wasn’t for Craven, though. That old fiend’s eyes lit up quite delightedly and he nodded - quickly, “Hah!” he said. ‘“ Here’s something concrete at last! What happened on Janu- ary ninth, nineteen-twenty, my dear?” The eyes turned on him sorrowfully. ‘Ask Tom!” said the girl. ‘““T venture to say, we'll do just that— and insist on an answer!’’ Mr. Craven said heartily. ‘“ Berford!” “What?” “What happened?” The boss was breathing hard as he faced Craven, ‘‘ What d’ye mean?” he demanded. ““ Where were you—and this girl—on that date?” ‘“‘T was nowhere at all with this girl, be- cause I never saw her before to-day. As to where I may have been myself, I can’t say.” “ That’s odd!” “Ts it?” What were you doing on Janu- ary ninth, four years ago, Mr. Craven?” Craven held up one of his lean claws and smiled. “Don’t dodge the issue like that, Ber- ford!” “Tm dodging nothing! I don’t know where I was on any given date four years comicheoks.conn