The Argosy, December 1905 — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

114 “ Well, I wasn’t entirely serious,” said Duncan, with a smile; “ but don’t worry about me, Morley. I’m capable of taking care of myself.” “And you will keep out of Chambers’ way?” eried the secretary earnesiy. “You will keep out of his way, won’t you?” “Don’t worry. Ill pick no quarrels with him. But if he tries any tricks in the way of eliminating me from this company or this city x “Hush!” said Morley. “ Please the Lord, he won’t! He may calm down and realize that matters are almost beyond him, but if he doesn’t you'll be eareful, will you not? ” For several days the memory of that lively interview remained with Duncan and helped divert his mind. To tell the truth, he believed that Morley’s estimate of the second vice- president was rather exaggerated and that he himself stood in very little dan- ger, and as the week drew to a close and another wore on he found that eight days had passed without any demonstra- tion from Chambers. His threats had been made in a mo- ment of rage, and they carried no weight whatever. So Duncan concluded, and the general run of things seemed to yus- tify his conclusion. Chambers hardly saw him dnsivig the business day, and in their few passings neither man appeared to be aware of the other’s existence. It was a sufficiently satisfactory state of affairs, and Morley seemed relieved. Outside the office, Duncan was having a sufficiently difficult time. Once or twice he attempted to see Louise, against his better judgment, and failed. Beatrice he could hardly face, yet on a couple of rare occasions he forced him- self to call at her home and carry on his detestable part of lover for a little while. But the hours burned into his very soul, and after a certain miserable eve- ning he left the house half vowing never to enter it again, be the result what it might. He returned to his rooms in the blackest possible mood. Where would it end? Where would it end? The ques- Henry, THE ARGOSY. tion whirled through his brain eternally, and there seemed no.answer, His man met him at the door. “ 'There’s a package for you, sir.” What is it?” “T don’t know, Mr. Alvin. It’s marked ‘ personal,’ and I did not open it. It hes on the library table, sir.” Duncan strolled into the room and looked about. He perceived the thing presently—a little box well wrapped in paper and tied with heavy twine. He laid it down again, and resolved to open it in the morning. Just now he wanted nothing more than the oblivion of sleep. Dropping to the couch, he closed his eyes—and was forced to open them again, for his man entered hurriedly. ““'There’s a person to see you, sir.” “Who is it?” “That I couldn’t say. He gave no name, but he said that he must see you immediate. He looks rather wild.” * Tell him I’ve gone to bed. He will have to come again in the morning. Find out what he wants.” The man bowed and turned away, but just as he parted the curtains a wild- looking person rushed through. He evaded the servant’s clutch and dashed toward the table. He seized the pack- age and held it in trembling hands. “Mr. Alvin, it’s two minutes to twelve—in two minutes it will be mid- night, sir! ” e Well 3? “Get out, sir! sake!” “ But why?” The man licked his lips. “Go, sir! Quick! It’s less than two minutes now, and on the stroke of mid- night this box is going to explode and blow you and your rooms and half this hotel into pieces! ” Duncan was standing. Get out, for God’s CHAPTER XIII. THE BLAST THAT FAILED. DuNcAN stood petrified. That the “personal” package could have contained anything dangerous had not occurred to him. He had felt far too tired and listless ANIELOOOLK (C@ (C@