The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 2 — page 48: what you’re looking at

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

230 “For th’ love o’ Mike, mister! What the—” “T got you!” Mr. Farnham’s voice de- clared with some satisfaction. “Well—well, certainly you got me!” Cragg responded breathlessly. “Hey! Get _ off my chest! Wotter you tryin’ to do to a poor little guy like me, you big—” There was an audible shuffle as Jane, disregarding instructions, hurried across the clearing, past the violently sleeping Mr. Hapworthy, past the tent from which came Aunt Hettie’s high-keyed whistle and down toward the road and the scene of trouble. She arrived in time to see Mr. Farnham raise Mr. Cragg to his feet by means of his collar, and to hear him say: “Where were you bound for, you little idiot?” “T was—was taking a walk!” Cragg an- swered indignantly. “Where?” “For a drink of water!”’ “The brook’s up the other way, you know,” said Mr. Farnham, without releas- ing his hold. “And do you always take that little grip of yours when you go for a drink, just as you took it to go for a wrench? What the devil’s the matter with you, anyway? Why don’t you want to drive that car? . Oh, are you there, Miss Fayre?” Mr. Farnham said more mildly. “Why, certainly I want to drive it Cragg whined suddenly. “Why wouldn’t | Oe “T was pretty certain that my eyes were not failing,’ Farnham pursued. “I saw him sneak out of the car and look around, and then button up his duster and reach in for his bag. Then he bent down and began to run straight across the clearing and down to the road and—that’s where I caught up!” Jane came nearer. “Were you trying to leave us, Cragg?” she asked sharply: Had she been in doubt before that some mystic influence emanated from herself and aifected Cragg most oddly, doubt vanished now. Mr. Cragg seemed to shrink sud- denly; his eyes lost their defiance and !? dropped to the ground; under Mr. Farn- — ham’s touch he shook slightly as he mum- bled: “Why, no—no, ma’am. I wasn’t trying to leave. Why would I try to leave, espe- THE ARGOSY. cially in a place like this, where I’d have to walk miles, even if I did want to leave?” “T don’t know. But do you want to?” ‘“‘No, ma’am!” Cragg repeated shakily. “No, ma’am! I want to stay!” His eyes failed to rise. Mr. Farnham glanced at Jane. There in the moonlight, hair rather towsled, a puzzled little smile dimpling her cheeks, she seemed even more exquisite and adorable—and maddeningly, mysteriously farther from Mr. Farnham than ever. This fact earned Cragg a shake of extra violence and put a savage note into Mr. Farnham’s voice as he said: “Well, you’re too queer for me—and youre too insignificant to argue with; but you'll stay put this time. Ill guarantee you that much, Cragg. Is there a tow-rope in that car?” “Under the front seat,” Cragg muttered. “Get it out, then, and Ill show you a trick or two with it!”” Mr. Farnham laughed unpleasantly. ‘And do it quietly, too!” His hand still fastened under the driver’s collar, he propelled Mr. Cragg to the car and waited while, with really commendable caution, the fellow delved under the seat and finally brought forth several yards of heavy rope. In the rear Mr. Hapworthy slumbered on, an unlovely sprawl; Jane turned from a momentary inspection of him to watch Mr. Farnham, who had lighted one of the lanterns and was favoring Cragg with an evil smile. “Tt’ll interest you to know, Cragg, that I am one of the few surviving Americans who ran away to sea as a child. I made one trip around the Horn as cabin boy on a clipper ship and it cured me; but the old mate of that ship took a great fancy to me and taught me every knot, bight and hitch in the world. Put out your hands and I'll show you a simple one!” said Mr. Farnham. The hands came out, albeit Mr. Cragg failed even then to look up or voice a single word of protest. The rope twirled and tightened; and Mr. Farnham, having raised the light to examine his work, said complacently: “There. You can pull and twist on that till midnight to-morrow, and every twist will make it that much tighter! Do you want to sit on the ground or on the step of the car? I think the ground’s best,” said Mr. Farnham, as he twitched out a robe and laid it flat. ‘‘Lie down there, you!” CORMICGLOOOKS (C@