The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 2 — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

GETTING AWAY picked my pocket for spite? No, that’s nonsense, I suppose. But somebody who had access to this coat wanted that certifi- cate and—it must have been Cragg!” ‘Wilbur, why should Cragg—” Jane be- gan quite soothingly. | “T give it up! Why did he do all the other things? Why did he strain every nerve to escape and finally do it? Why did he turn white whenever you looked at him, Jane? I don’t know and you don’t know, but I'll make one guess: your university got track of that marriage and sent him hy nati Jane’s sudden peal of laughter found an echo from Mr. Farnham’s direction after a second or two. “T admit it,” he said. ‘That’s foolish. But the thing is gone, Jane!” “Then since you have lost one part of the record and can’t destroy it,” Jane suggested sanely, “‘why risk so much to—”’ Violently Mr. Farnham’s hand clutched her own. ‘““Jane!”’ he said hotly. “I may not have many good points, but once I’ve tackled a thing I never drop it until one or the other of us is licked! Ill find and destroy that fiendish trick certificate later if I have to devote my life to the job! And before this night is out I’ll burn up the really impor- tant official record of your nightmare wed- ding if I have to burn Batesford with it!” CHAPTER XVIII. CAUGHT IN THE ACT. HE clock on the village hall had just struck one when the car without lights came to a soundless standstill on the out- skirts of Batesford. Lingeringly the stroke died out and only the Sahara could have been more overwhelmingly silent than Batesford and her environs. An economical village administration limited its street lighting to the main ave- nue, which constituted most of Batesford, and out this way the road was blacker than any tomb—so black indeed that Mr. Farn- ham’s voice was dubious as he asked: “T’ve never been here, you know. Have you any clear idea of where we are, Jane?”’ . “J know exactly where we are,” the charming young person astonished him by saying. ‘That house across the road is where Edith Barr used to buy her eggs.” ‘“‘And the justice’s place?” FROM THOMPSON. 269 “It’s about three hundred feet up that way, on the main street. But—Wilbur?” “Yes, my darling?” “T don’t want you to do it!” Jane said flatly. “I appreciate it—all the risk you’re willing to take for my sake, but it isn’t worth—” “We'll talk about that when we get out of Batesford again,’ Mr. Farnham inter- rupted. “Is there a street behind the jus- tice’s house?” Jane sighed resignedly. “T think that is it, Wilbur—just ahead there, where you see the crossroad and the oil-lamp on a post.” The car moved on, to the turn and around it, with Mr. Farnham whistling soft- ly through his teeth, and the blackness be- fore them grew more intense. Mere inky shades, outlining themselves against perfectly impenetrable gloom, indi- cated a house here and there; they had passed the last one by full two hundred feet before Jane’s hand, resting lightly on Mr. Farnham’s arm, halted him. ‘“That—that’s it!” Jane said faintly. “Through there, where you see the light on the main road!” ‘The old house? Good enough. We’re beside his barn now, evidently.” “I don’t remember a barn.” “They’ve built it since you were here,” chuckled Mr. Farnham. ‘“We’re so close to it that I can touch it with my hand. Now, Jane!” ey ene) “You're not to move!” the budding burg- lar whispered. ‘‘You’re to sit perfectly still here and not make one sound. Under- stand?” “T hear, Wilbur,” Jane said eddly. “T’ve got a jimmy and the big screwdriver and a wrench heavy enough to twist the ‘house from its foundations, and what one of them won’t open the other will. Did I take the flashlight? Yes. That’s all, then. ‘Leave the door of the car wide open, because when I come back it may be with a rush. And don’t be frightened, little girl,” said Mr. Farnham, squeezing her hand. “It may be ten minutes before I’m back, but it will not be much longer than that.” A large, dusky, predatory figure, he was visible for a moment as he moved away toward Justice Codd’s homestead; then the night swallowed Mr. Farnham, tools, mis- sion cnd all. What impressed him as most curious was CORMMICLOOOKS (C@)