Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 146: what you’re looking at

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

ARGOSY-ALLST ORY WEEKLY. AS run amc There is net the least doubt but that he would have had Jessie removed from the house next day. - He left the room in an impressive slence. Ne one of the men dared move. One could see through the meretricious means by which he held them subject, nevertheless, I for one, was not strong enough to stand out against him. Kate, key in hand, hurried after to let him out. He did not linger i in the hall for any whispered consultation with her. That would have destroyed the awful inscrutability with which he surrounded himself. We heard her let him out, close the door after him and turn the key. - Waiting for the expected dénouement, my heart beat with great slow thumps like a hammer in my breast. Black Kate started back for the dining = room. Before she reached the doer, we heard a scramble on the front steps of the house, a pounding on the door, and the boss’s voice with all the inscrutability gone” out of it, just a plain terrified voice: “ Open! : Open!” But immediately came the unmis- takable sounds of his being dragged down the steps. Kate with a gasp, dared into the front room to look out of the window. She in- stantly came running back to us. Her face was blenched to the color of ashes. In the dining room door she stumbled and sank to her knees, clutching her breast and sobbing horribly for breath. Bad heart. “The police—” she gasped. taken him!” There was an instant’s silence in the room, then utter confusion. Black Kate got to her feet and leaned against the wall. “It was her—it was her!” she gasped, pointing at my mistress. My mistress seized my wrist and backed with me to the fireplace. From the bosom of her dress she whipped out the little gun ‘that Bill had given her. I didn’t know then if she had ever had the opportunity to load it. I know now that it was loaded. It seemed to me as if they were all milling around the room like trapped rats. The only one I can remember clearly is Bull Combs. Bill turned a face on us black and terrible with rage and raised his clenched fists above his head. “ They’ve “ By God, girl, I was on the square with you!” he cried hoarsely. “ I was ready to go to my death with you. And this is what I get for it. You’re nothing but a spy! You've sold us out! Well, damn you, Pll kill you before they take me!” “Easy, Bill!” said my mistress, keeping her eyes fixed unwaveringly on his. “ It’s true I had him taken, and { want her,” pointing to Black Kate. “ The rest of you are free. The back way is open. Beat it.”’ It is doubtful if they got it the first time. : “Beat it!” she cried, raising her voice. “T am still your friend. I promised you that I would set you free to-night. And if in the future you need a friend, come to me. I will help you to a fair start. Je At this moment we heard a peremptory knocking on the front door. They turned and scuttled down the basement stairs. “Sam! Don’t leave me!” cried Black Kate. a == ‘He turned, snarling. “ To hell with you, old woman!” and disappeared. Still racked with pain, Kate attempted to follow. : - My mistress covered her with the gun. “Not you,” she said sternly. “A bullet if you move!”’ Black Kate sank, groaning, on a chair Bill Combs still lingered, goggling with amazement. “Whe are you?” he demanded hoarsely. “ Rosika Storey,” said my mistress. “Oh, my God!” stammered Biull. “ And I thought —I thought— Now I see it!” A strange cry broke from Black Kate. “ Beat it! Beat it!” said my mistress ur- gently to Bill. “I cannot save you after they are in.” He turned and ran down the stairs with remarkable celerity for his size. I heard other steps on the stairs, and an uncouth figure appeared in the doorway. I recog- nized Melanie Soupert, gaunt, disheveled, weak from her imprisonment. ‘The steel bracelet still dangled on her sore wrist, but the chain had been cut off short. She looked like a figure risen from the grave; but her sunken eyes glowed with something of the old spirit. ‘What is it?” she Jacked breathlessly. Eomicbooks