The Argosy, October 1906 — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

Of course, it eoald only be a coinci- dence. Yet, in times of strongest mental stress and worry, the thoughts often have an insane habit of dwelling persistently on trifles. So it was with mine. I struck a fourth match, using my scanty store of lights with asinine prodi- gality. Then I felt in my scarf for the pin. It was not there. For an instant I feared I had lost it. Then I remembered the scene with Billy Gregg on the stairs that morning, and how I had dropped the bauble into my inner coat-pocket. I fumbled for it, en it “out, nd. holding it in one hand, held my match in the othcr and compared the scarab on the pin with the painted beetle on the wall. Yes, they were the same in coloring, in general outline, and precisely identi- cal as regarded their various peculiar markings. A slight gasping noise behind me dis- « tracted my attention, and, sprihging to my feet, | whirled around, involuntarily / Yaising in front of me, as a guard, my left hand—the hand that ripped the scarab pin. On the instant, the match, burning low in my other hand, scorched my ,fin- gers and I dropped it. © It fell with a little smothered hiss in the water, and the waiting darkness once more rushed i in upon me.. But not before, by a feeble glow of the falling match-end, I had seen, barely two feet away, a shadowy, whitish face out of which wonderingly incredulous black eyes stared wildly at me. CHAPTER IX. I PERFORM A MIRACLE. For the space of perhaps five seconds after the falling match left us in dark- “ness we two stood there without a word, without motion—I and the man whose face I had so dimly discerned by the last flicker of vesta-light. While I had been studying over the comparison between my scarab pin and the painted beetle on the wall, he had crept up without sound, through the _water, and had been at my side — = Lwas aware of his approach. = se, THE SCARLET SCARAB. Who he fright Be I contd not guess 5 ~ = — nor what his stealthy errand. I had barely discerned the outlines and eyes of — a human face ere the light had died. = = So, through the tiny space of time that ——_ seemed immeasurable, we stood. — I < startled, yet alert for any move, and e awaiting the decisive moment to come _ to grip with at least one of my foes. = He, breathless,.motionless, seemingly = frozen into inaction as though by some fright. ae The silence ended. And in his first ae awed, frightened syllable, I recognized = the slurring Sicilian patois of my guide. = “ Eccelenza!*’ he gasped. And again: | == “ Eccelenza!” = > ay He . : Vastly different from his former sneering address; but I was too excited ~ to note the change. For, as his words broke the spell, I had sprung forward in. the dark, with outthrown arms, and" grappled with him. The impact knocked him off his. feet and together we crashed down on ‘the steps, close to the water’s edge. A swift-planned idea had come to me —if I-could overpower and disarm this ruffian, I might, by threats or even physi- cal violence? make him take me to Doris Todd; or at least to the outer world, whence I could readily obtain rescue for her. Se We fell, I uppermost, ‘my knee on his chest, my fingers on his rough, unshaven throat; the rage of battle swelled up within me. * : Then, collecting my wits, I elackened ae the pressure on my fallen opponent. — For it suddenly occurred to me that this a was no battle. Or, if it was, it was Fo _ who had done all the fighting. = ee For he had made no move to defend —_—- himself ; had not struggled, nor sought = to oppose my onset. % Was he paralyzed with fright? Or was this non-resistance some ruse whose — climax would be a knife-thrust in my — eg 4 i . | " 7 aay ea ae me res i ¥ ' ‘ ' y Pty Lik, St! ES esa a ribs? Suspicious though I was of the = Sicilian character, yet I inclined to the ae former opinion. — > Ss I recalled his awe-struck exclamation of “ Eccelenza!” (Your Excellency!) a_ term not lightly lavished in Italy on mere tourists or folk of small account. I slackened again my grip on his throat and he spoke. = oO Eomichoo S