The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 2 — page 36: what you’re looking at

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

218 Jane had fled. Keeping her swift walk from turning into a headlong run was some- thing of an effort, but she succeeded, albeit she gave a drowsy waiter by the doorway an impression that the place was afire. Eyes darting about eagerly, she attained the lobby and there she collided with young Mr. Farnham, who was returning. “Well?” Jane asked eagerly. Mr. Farnham eyed her narrowly. “Vou’re excited!” he said. “What was the message?” “There wasn’t any—or none to amount to anything,” Mr. Farnham spoke quietly. “Let us sit down here in the corner for a minute or two, Miss Fayre.” His tone was remarkably deep and calm- ing, too, as he smiled at his agitated hostess. ‘‘Some one called up to learn if a car with your number had stopped at the house —that was all. The clerk says that it was a man’s voice and that he was shouting; there’s nothing unusual in that, you know, because people usually shout when they’re talking over the long-distance wire. This call came from New York, I believe. Who- ever it may have been, he wanted Miss Fayre to remain here until he came.” ' “And that was all?” Jane cried. “Of course it was all. What were you expecting ?”’ “Why—nothing! Nothing at all!” his hostess said breathlessly. And then, for no obvious reason, Mr. Farnham seemed to have taken her hand; he was pressing it reassuringly as he said very softly: “Vou will forgive me, Miss Fayre, but I want to help you. There is something on your mind that is all but worrying you to death!” “Why do you say that?” Jane asked faintly. “Because I can see it, of course,” Farn- ham smiled. “All the rest of them could see it if they were not so occupied with themselves. I know that it is presuming a good deal on short acquaintance, but if you “will tell me all about it I’) do anything in this wide world to help you and make things easier for you, whatever the trouble may be.”’ / He waited, but without reward. Jane’s lips, to be sure, opened suddenly, but they closed again with a frightened little gasp; mad though it might be, Jane had tottered upon the very verge of pouring the whole story into Mr. Farnham’s ear! THE ARGOSY. More than a little startled by the realiza- tion, she shrank from him and freed her hand, and Farnham reddened slowly as she sat in perfect silence, biting her lips. “I beg your—your pardon,” he stam- mered. ‘‘I didn’t mean—”’ “It isn’t that. You can’t understand,” Jane said, looking up swiftly. “You can’t understand how much I appreciate your goodness or how—much I want to tell you and ask you to help me. But it is impos- sible.” “Why?” “Because it is!’ Jane answered miser- ably. ‘That is all I can say.” Mr. Farnham smiled slowly. “Let that be enough then,” he said. “Tell me how I can help you.- Tell me what you are afraid of—because it’s plain fear, you know. Is it that somebody is fol- lowing us? I know that sounds ridiculous, but—” “But it isn’t ridiculous!’’ Jane protested warmly. ‘I’m glad you’ve guessed that much!” ‘And you want to get away from them?” “That,” said his hostess, with the utmost candor, ‘‘is the whole idea of this trip.” ‘Gives it that much more spice, for me at any rate,” the helpful person chuckled. “And I wish you wouldn’t tremble like that every few minutes,” he added suddenly. “I may not run much to brains, but I’m stronger than an ox. Nothing’s going to happen to you, Miss Fayre, while I’m in the neighborhood—and I shall be right there until you’re back in your own home, with your permission.” - ‘You have it!” said Jane, with deep feel- ing. “And I do thank you! And now—” “Well?” ‘‘How soon can we get out of town?” “If you're really nervous about it, we can leave without finishing luncheon.” “They'll spend an hour or more at that table,” Jane murmured heartlessly. “They’re figuring on spending the night here, too,” the helpful one grinned, “but that needn’t matter. There’s food enough in that camp stuff of Weston’s to provision an army, and he has a great reputation for exquisite taste in tents.” Jane shook her head. “I’m afraid that we’re here for an hour or two at least,’ she sighed shakily. ‘The others might be willing to start for polite- ness’ sake, even if they thought me crazy, but Aunt Hettie would never consent.” CORMICGLOOKS (C@