The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 2 — page 51: what you’re looking at

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

GETTING AWAY FROM THOMPSON. his lips and, having pondered, smiled ad- miringly. “I believe that you’ve hit it,” he said. “Don’t worry about Thompson.”’ “Worry!” cried Jane. ““When this whole trip was for the purpose of getting away from him?” “Listen to me,” continued Farnham. “This trip was a simon-pure blessing, or- dained by Providence to bring us together. You’re not in any danger whatever, from Thompson or anybody else, because noth- ing can get anywhere near you while I’m alive, Jane. Look at this gun.” -“TIt looks like Thompson’s,” Jane shiv- ered. “Tt happens to be mine, and I can pot nine Thompsons out of ten at fifty yards— and it would give me a great deal of inno- cent pleasure to pot one at least. That'll be all about Thompson to-night, Jane. Youre going down now and get an hour or two of sleep at least. And you’re to forget about him. Do you hear?” “Ves, Wilbur,” Jane CO fi” “Because that poor little head has been making a mountain out of a molehill,”’ con- cluded Mr. Farnham, rising and drawing the owner of the poor little head to her feet. ‘‘All else apart, getting rid of him legally can’t be a matter of more than a month or,two, and there is no hurry. “We'll just go on with the jog, Jane, and it will be a jog hereafter, and a lazy one; and when we get back, if your uncle hasn’t settled the matter, let me call in a fellow I’ve known for years; he’s the sharpest thing that ever owned a law office and he’ll blow your Thompson so far out of the water that he’ll never come down again. Meanwhile, you’re going to bed!” Farnham, of course, minimized the dan- ger. So Jane reflected as she crawled back with infinite caution to her own place in the crowded and mercifully somnolent tent. There in the darkness, with sleep over- taking her whether she willed it or not, it seemed to Jane that Farnham ignored the plain fact of their pursuit too calmly—for there could be no doubt that Thompson was in the neighborhood. He had tele- phoned after them and she strongly sus- said meekly. pected that he had passed them in the roar- | ing car of the earlier night. Doubtless he would plunge on and on until he discovered that he was chasing empty air; and then he would turn around and come back! 233 It was Mrs. Hapworthy who awakened her. Mrs. Hapworthy stood half erect in the little tent, adjusting her hair by the touch system and looking at her hostess with lips compressed. “Your aunt and Miss Callum have gone to the brook, I believe,” she said. “I thought it as well to wait for you.” “Why—” Jane said hazily. “Because I thought it as well; that is quite all!” the lady repeated, leaving the tent and. pausing just outside in the early sunshine. Seconds passed before Jane, roused from dreams of her own, realized that the wretched owner of blue-eyed James was harping on her pet theme; she smiled wearily and then smiled with sudden bril- liance, because Farnham’s veice was com- ing across the clearing: “Ves, he tried to cut loose and leave us without a driver last night so I pinned him down. I think he’s a little bit crazy. Eh, Cragg?” “T ain’t crazy!” the eccentric chauffeur rasped. ‘Lemme up and lemme put the spare shoe on that back wheel, boss. That there one ain’t going to last another twenty miles, the way we burn up the road.” Jane looked out. Mr. Farnham was twitching knots from their captive with an ease that caused Cragg to scowl unfeigned disgust; and when Mr. Farnham had con- sidered their driver’s stiff and difficult aris- ing, he led him aside suddenly and his eyes grew rather hard. “T don’t know what’s wrong with you, Cragg,” Jane caught in a stern undertone, “but I do know what will happen to you if you try any more of these lightning dives. You're going to take Miss Fayre’s car into Batesford at last, and farther if she wishes. And the next time I catch you making a get-away I’m going to send a bullet through one of your legs. Get it?” “T get it!’”’ the driver muttered, as Jane left her tent; and he looked straight at her and shrank away in the same inexplicable fashion and fumbled about among the tools for the jack. : A long, deep glance passed between Mr. Farnham and his hostess. He was moving toward her, when Aunt Hettie abandoned the task of encouraging Mary Callum as she worked spiritlessly over the tiny gaso- line stove and hurried toward her niece. “Good morning, Jane,” said Aunt Hettie. CORMICLOOOKS (C@