The Argosy, Vol. 81, No. 4 — page 143: what you’re looking at

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

47 5.4. She interrupted him. “Vou go, go at once, Stewart, and I'll see you at the fort as soon after nine in the morning as you can get there. You will come, won’t you?” she added, catching a peculiar look on his face. “Oh, certainly,” he hastened to assure her. “Ill be on hand, never fear.” “J shan’t be late, for once,’ chuckled Nealis. “I’ve never seen a movie show in process of creation and you’d better believe [ll be there with bells on. Ten o’clock, you said?” “Ves.” The girl nodded. “Stewart has a headache and:is going to bed now.” Nealis, who had never heard of his friend having a headache, glanced at him in won- der, but smiled agreeably as he caught an emphatic wink. “Well,” he ejaculated, “that leaves me with a wonderful lady on my hands. You can’t clear out too soon for me, Stew.” "He bowed and 6ffered his arm to Helen, who looked back and smiled at her lover, then disappeared with her escort amid the dancers. , Lansing waited until he caught a last elimpse of her creamy gown, then turning suddenly almost ran into Clarkin, who nodded curtly and hurried past him. He was now acting as a waiter. “Well,” murmured Lansing, “I don’t want to talk to you, old top. I’ve seen all of you for a while that I wish. By to-mor- row I hope to know whether you’re the biggest lunk-head in the world or a candi- date for Sherlock Holmes’s job.” He certainly did not suggest a man who was suffering as he hurried out into the hall and stepped into a coat-closet under the stairs where he had noticed a telephone. He had recalled that he had a friend attached to one of the three submarine divisions at the Torpedo Station on Goat Island. This friend, Lieutenant Commander Dart, played a part in the plan he had suddenly formulated after his brief conversation with Clarkin in the Italian garden. After a hunt in the telephone directory he eventually got the superintendent’s office at the island. An orderly, apparently, an- swered the ’phone. In reply to Lansing’s request as to Dart’s whereabouts, he got his telephone number in Officers’ Row. ‘There was considerable _ delay before the ring was answered, then came a sleepy and_ rather disgruntled “Hello!” 709 “Are you there?” queried Lansing, em- ploying the English form of telephone salu- tation and utilizing at the same time a de- cidedly Anglican accent. “Wes, I’m there,” came the voice. “And who the devil is it?” “Why this is Sir Stewart Lansing, the Grand Duke of Meadowbrook.” The reply was a burst of rather rueful laughter, coupled with the information that this was an unholy hour at which to awaken an officer and a gentleman. “Took here, Bob,” Lansing went on, “I have something of real importance to tell you—that is I wish to ask your advice. No. this is the real goods, no spoof at all. Can IT see you now?” Dart, interested by Lansing’s manner of speech, told him that the ferry to the island left the Naval Landing at 11.30, and Dart would meet him at the dock. ‘All right, I'll come right over.” Lansing slipped out of the closet with a light overcoat of his which he had hung there the previous evening, and a golf cap of Nealis’s, and made his way out by the rear of the house. At the Casino he signaled a cabman and was driven down William Street to Thames, thence along that narrow, picturesque thor- oughfare to the Naval Landing. Several minutes would elapse before the little ferry- boat would leave on her trip across the harbor and Lansing, standing in the back- ground lighted a cigarette. The bell rang for the departure and a, sailor was just beginning to cast off the lines when a man who had been lurking in the shadows, stepped aboard. Lansing felt certain the man was Clarkin. He smiled grimly. For once, as he saw it, the secret service men were playing di- rectly into his hands. Clarkin’s appear- ance could not have been more opportune. In fact, he was so glad to see the detective that he was tempted to go to him and shake him cordially by the hand. He followed the crowd ashore on reach- ing the island and found Dart pacing up and down on the landing stage. ‘Well, Lansing,” was his sombre greet- ing, ‘‘what’s the idear”’ “Listen, Bob,” whispered the newcomer, seizing his friend by the arms. ‘‘This is no idle jest. If you know me you know I’m not apt to be calling at this hour just for the fun of the thing. This is serious, blamed serious.” EOPMICLOC KC) S (C@)