The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 2 — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

GETTING AWAY FROM THOMPSON. had led her to the window of the house next door for a final glimpse of the burglar. There was no avoiding it, and, at least, it would soon be over. For the elevator cables were rattling and Thompson was coming down now! Jane tried to move nearer to Farnham and could raise neither foot. She smiled and noted ever so mistily that Cragg had succumbed to another of his many moods and wondered why. Mr. Cragg, who had so recently sent his brazen smile to the four corners of the place, had flattened himself against a car. One arm clutched his little grip; the other hand clutched the bosom of his duster rather dramatically. His eyes, which had stared impudently at everything but Jane, were dilated and wild again; he was peer- ing about, at the doors, at the cars, at the elevator; he dragged at his throat and seemed about to faint. But he would forget himself presently in witnessing her end, Jane reflected, sickened. The tragedy was just about one second in the future now; with the elevator humming slowly downward, clearer understanding of its underlying causes came to her. The burglar business had been bad and Thompson’s capital had carried him only to Albany; here, perforce, he had paused and worked honestly for one day, by way of raising his fare to New York. Such a necessity, very likely, had rendered his frightful nature even more ugly; his legs would appear now and then the rest of Thompson; he would look about with his evil eyes and the eyes would light upon Jane. Then, with a hair-raising shout, John Thompson would leap from the elevator and straight at her! : He would—Jane closed her eyes. There was the elevator and there were the legs! The elevator stopped with a thud. Said the man in overalls: “This car here, John!” Jane ceased breathing. One second spent a week or so in passing; another dragged through the ensuing month. She felt her- self swaying and knew that she was about to drop senseless before he could touch her. She was glad of that, but—Jane opened her eyes again quite abruptly, for from Cragg’s direction a distinctly wild and irresponsible laugh had split the calm of the establish- ment. | All of Mr. Cragg’s agitation was gone. He had ceased to clutch himself and was 215 leaning limply against the side of the car; his mouth was open and he laughed; and then, since they had all turned in his direc- tion, he ceased laughing with a jerk and mopped his forehead! ‘“‘Where do you want to take her, Thomp- son?” the man in overalls asked. ‘Why, she’ll do right here, I guess,” re- sponded a thin, small, apologetic voice. Within Jane’s chilled bosom the heart leaped back to life so suddenly that her temples pounded. She gripped Mr. Farn- ham quite involuntarily and forced her eyes upon the beautiful six—and the person who bent over the engine was no more than five feet tall, with sandy hair and a bedraggled yellow mustache and steel-rimmed_ spec- tacles! ; “I’m going to keep a mighty sharp eye on that Cragg chap!” Mr. Farnham said, decidedly. ‘‘He’s mad as a hatter!” Jane hardly heard him. Her clawing hand, to be sure, dropped from Farnham’s strong arm, but her whole being was cen- tered on the John Thompson who was not the John Thompson she feared at ali. Breathing noisily the little man had mostly disappeared under the uplifted hood, while the other mechanic shifted an electric bulb from side to side of the engine as he di- rected. Now he grunted, now he asked a ques- tion or twisted with a wrench—and as he grunted and twisted, good, cold common | sense surged back to Jane Fayre. She was permitting this Thompson idea to become a positive obsession; and that ex- aggerated state of mind would have to end here and now. One more false alarm like this one and it was far from impossible that she would collapse utterly. Jane then, waving away hysteria, smiled quite natural- ly as the honest representative of the Thompson family straightened up and said: “There ain’t nothing wrong with this Care: = “Nothing at all?’’ Farnham asked. “Not a thing, mister. She’s like a watch. She’s been overhauled within a week from the looks of her.” “What have you got to say about it, Cragg?” the large young man inquired sharply. Cragg faced him without flinching. “Only that I musta been mistaken, boss, an’ I’m glad of it, now this here expert me- chanic says so,” he replied. “It seemed to me like there was a little tick somewhere— Go OOOKS AUG (C@)