The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 2 — page 139: what you’re looking at

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

FROM DUSK TO DARK. home to her mother, if she has one. Where do you live, miss?” His tone might have been that of a kind- ly grandparent coming upon some lost child whom all other strangers were frightening with their questions. “East Orange, forty-four Wilmot Ter- race,” she answered weakly, but readily. ‘All right, I guess one of you fellows can handle the car for her, can’t you?” Two or three of them volunteered at once. ‘Maybe you know how to handle it your- self, and would rather go home alone,” def- erentially suggested the~ white-haired pro- tector. “No, I don’t know anything about it. I’ve never tried to run it.” The old fellow did not miss the signifi- cance of this denial with its implication of having ridden in the car before. “Do you know the name of the young man—your friend that brought ye here.” “Of course { do. We’ve been close friends for years. He’s employed as an en- gineer in—the same company of which I’m the vice president’s stenographer.” She was not sure of the advisability of giving any of the names. “And you’ve been out with him in the car before?” “Over and over again,” eagerly. She was impressing him with the truth. She was horrified at what they thought of her; but she cared far more about gaining some further assistance. The necessity of answering questions, the shock of realizing the significance of their words, the awful- ness of the whole occurrence had numbed her thus far. But with every second her faculties were awakening; the horrible, impossible thing was becoming more and more real. “Then just why did you shriek so to- night?” the old man asked. "And ‘she saw that he no more believed her tale than the others, but was a bit more gentle and kindly in consideration for her feelings, readier than the rest to condone lying under the circumstances as he saw them. “It was because the old man told me my friend had not been there, and shut and locked the door in my face. Then I knew something had- happened to him. Then I screamed until—” she assured him “Aw,” disgustedly cried the man with the lantern, 9 A “that’s the same old story. 321 She doesn’t want to tell the truth. We haven’t got all night. Who’s going to take her home?” ‘“And leave him here?” Helen gasped. “But he ain’t here,” the other retorted, with a short laugh. ‘‘We’ve looked every place there is, haven’t we? I’ve knowed this house since I was a boy, stole apples off the place and played Indian in it and darned near set fire to the hall fifty times. We’ve looked everywhere.” “The river,’ she suggested, not because it could account for the disappearance of at least three men she had known to dis- appear, but because it was the only place left. “Well, there’s a long beach to the river behind this here place. It ain’t two feet deep at this tide off what’s left of the old float. You’d have to go fifty foot or bet- ter before you could find water deep enough to drown a man.” “A boat?” she still persisted, in search’ of a solution. The other was still ready to show the impossibility of her suggestion. “That ain’t likely neither,” he persisted. “Tf they was river thieves, making this their hang-out, somebody’d have noticed it. And why’d anybody take the trouble to muffle up his oar-locks and all to kidnap a man who didn’t even know hisself that he was coming near that house till he got to it? And why’d they kidnap a man they didn’t know? ‘That ain’t natural. “Now, miss, I don’t know’s I blame you none for not wantin’ to tell the whole story. But we ain’t got time to stay here; we quit our work when we heard you yell. This isn’t no place for you to stay alone. I don’t suppose you want to explain things to the police. They’d never believe you and would be more’n likely to let the whole thing get into the papers in a bad light, if they didn’t take you to the House of De- tention. “Now, one of us will take the time to run you home in this car, and put the car wherever you say, and we'll just keep our mouths shut about the whole thing.” What was she to do? ‘That muttered warning about the electric chair for her lover still inspired some fear at thought of putting the police in charge of the case. Yet— “T can’t go,” she cried. “I can’t leave ~until—” A-sound interrupted her protest—the CORmMICLOOOKS (C@)