The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 2 — page 84: what you’re looking at

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

266 “We'll have to drive without numbers.” “And that’s all well enough for the woods, but as soon as we pass a village or a house we'll attract attention, and if they have a description of the car and see one answer- ing that description coming without—well, we'll have to geé numbers!”’ Farnham mut- tered grimly, as he took his place behind the wheel and sent the car rolling into the rain-soaked road. “How, Wilbur?” his hostess asked, with some reason. “T don’t know, Jane, but I’ll get them if I have to murder a sign-painter and use his stock! Ill see this thing through now suc- cessfully, with all its ramifications, if I fetch up on a stone slab in one of their hayseed morgues!”’ The civilized young man of day before yesterday had altogether vanished. In his place sat the newer Mr. Farnham, cold- eyed and elemental, with a set, determined chin which needed shaving now and would look like a caveman’s two days hence if circumstances kept him and his razor apart. Not that he had suffered at all by the change, Jane thought as she watched him; sheer force oozed from him now as he gripped the wheel and guided the car steadi- ly along, mixing much previously absorbed theory with his gasoline, to the economy of the latter. Night was coming on again with some speed, their third night on tour. Twice they had camped, but they would not camp this night; hitherto there had been a pric upon their several nervous systems, but now there was a price upon their persons, their car, their reputations and everything else! Nor was the law Jane’s only fear just now. Aunt Hettie, happy in the possession of the little brown hand-bag with the money, had certainly used the long distance and talked everything over with Uncle Horace Porter-Preston long before this— and both Uncle Horace and Aunt Martha were sticklers upon the utmost propriety. It was not unthinkable that Uncle Horace with a posse of his own had abandoned business even again and come in pursuit of her, and if he ever caught up, all the estates in America would not count as against her own instant return. And so it came back to the old proposi- tion; if Wilbur went ahead— ‘“T guess that’s the end of the woods!” Mr. Farnham ejaculated. ‘There’s a light ahead, Jane.” THE ARGOSY. ‘‘A-farm?” “Looks like it; we’ve passed several cultivated stretches in the last two miles and it all seems to be open country now. IT think we'll coast down here, too, Jane; it saves gas and it makes less noise. It’s just possible, you know, that somebody may be waiting for us with a shotgun, and if they don’t hear us coming we'll have that much start on the shot!” There was nothing to justify the cheerful prediction as they came silently to the bot- tom of the grade. The farmhouse was there, to be sure, but nothing more peaceful could have been imagined. Nestling far in from the road, several of its windows gave out the soft yellow light of oil lamps; on this side the dining-room showed clearly, with four young children and a bearded man seated ~ about the table, while a buxom woman hur- ‘ried back and forth from the kitchen, and laughter floated musically through the thick dusk. ; It was, in fine, the very farm which Mr. Farnham had visualized in vain, that morn- ing; but it failed to hold his attention now for more than a moment. After one glance, his keen eye left the pretty picture and peered into the roadside barn; he leaned from the side of the car, as he stopped it suddenly without a creak, and peered more intently. Then Mr. Farnham bent close to Jane and purred: “Don’t speak, dear! Don’t make a sound. I’ll be back in half a minute; where’s that little wrench?” He found it after a noiseless hunt and was on the ground before Jane thought to disobey and ask his mission. He paused and peered again, at the house, where the happy family remained -all unconscious of the refugee element in their road. Chuckling, Mr. Farnham van- ished abruptly into the dark mouth of the barn. Minutes dragged by. Out of the gloom one or two faint squeaks issued at long intervals, and several times the gentle rasp of metal upon metal, until Jane grew rest- less and took to peering on her own ac- count. As if her anxious gaze had summoned him, Mr. Farnham appeared suddenly. There was something under his arm; he laid the something quickly*on the back seat and bounded into his place behind the Go 0)() AMNG SS (C@