The Argosy, Vol. 81, No. 4 — page 146: what you’re looking at

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712 to pay the most assiduous attention to Helen Granger, and was devotion itself. But his gallantry was not of the senti- mental sort, or rather it was of a nature humorously sentimental, wherein a man rec- ognizing that a young woman is spoken for indulges in mock drama, breathing prayers that Fate had been more kind to him and that even though she were plighted to wed, Lansing must look to his laurels lest he lose her. All of which Helen took in excellent part, for, in the first flush of her new love, she had counted a great deal upon her lover’s presence throughout the evening, and was sorely disappointed when he retired from the scene.* It took all of Nealis’s humorous powers to rouse her from her gloom; but he succeeded eventually, and by the time he escorted her into the dining-room for sup- per she was prepared to enter merrily into the general spirit of the occasion. “Tove apparently doesn’t set well with Stewart,” observed Nealis, who, it may have been noted, was not over-supplied with tact.” ‘What do you mean?” she asked, eying him expectantly, eager for another laugh. “Why, I never knew the old fellow to have a headache before in his life,” Nealis explained. “I’m sorry,” she rejoined, “that I appear to have so unhappy an effect upon him. I’m really afraid he’s going to be sick.” “Sick!” gibed Nealis. ‘(Never fear. Stew isn’t the sickly sort. I don’t know what ailed him to-night, but you can bet it wasn’t—” He stopped short, remembering for .the first time Lansing’s wink. But he had not stopped short enough. Helen caught him up instantly. “Vou worry me, Mr. Nealis!” she cried. *‘What possible reason could Stewart have had for pretending he was ill?” Arnold hastened to make amends. “Oh, none at all,” he asserted, ‘‘absolute- ly none at all. Stewart is the essence of honor. If you knew him as I—” “T don’t know how well I know Stewart Lansing,” replied the girl, her pretty jaws squared and her eyes blazing. “But, Mr. Nealis, I ask this favor of you: Will you please go up-stairs and see how he is? If he is really ill he should not be left alone; he told me he had left-his man in New York. Go, will you, please, for me?” She placed her hand upon his arm, and THE ARGOSY. Nealis could for the life of him do nothing else than obey her. “Very well,” he sighed. “But I hate to leave you—” . ‘Think of my gratitude,” she murmured. “Please go.” Nealis made his way up the stairs and walked down the hall to Nealis’s room. He knocked upon the door and receiving no an- swer opened it softly. He walked up to the bed. It had not been disturbed. With a quick indrawing of breath he switched on the electric lights. The room was empty. In the closet all of Lansing’s clothing hung in orderly array, - with no sign of his evening garments. Nealis whistled softly. “This is a pretty go!”’ he muttered. He went on into his own room, but his friend was not there, and a search of the entire floor did not reveal a sign of him. He descended the stairs with reluctant steps, and as Nealis had no Spartan control over his features Helen read his emotions with one glance. ‘“He wasn’t asleep?” she asked quickly. “How is he?” “Oh—” Nealis hesitated, right.” “Well, if he is all right,” she flashed back, “why doesn’t he come down?” ‘‘He—he,” stumbled Nealis, ““I—I didn’t mean he was all right exactly; I meant that his head isn’t any worse—that he is not ill, see?” Helen’s suspicions were now thoroughly aroused. ‘Then, if he is not any worse,” she said, “He is all ~“T can see him before I go. Oh, yes, I must see him—I have something important to tell him.” “But you cannot wake him up, that wouldn’t be considerate,” protested Nealis. “Tf he is asleep, how do you know his headache is better?” she inquired. “Well,” vouchsafed the distracted young man, ‘“‘he was not struggling—”’ “Not struggling!” “That is,” Nealis stammered, ‘‘he—he wouldn’t be asleep if his headache was worse.” He brightened. “Yes, that’s it— you see if it was worse it would keep him awake.” She rose to her feet. “T am afraid I shall have to ask you to waken*him for me. He was talking with a strange man in the garden a while ago— and I must know who it was.” eomicbooks (C@)