The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 4 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

A SECRET OF THE BRONX. Fanning started a little, for he thought Tom suspected something concerning his own affair. “Why? What do you mean?” he asked. “As I came along the window of dad’s den was open and I could hear Batterson raving and cursing like a madman.” ‘“* Batterson ?”’ From the veranda nothing in the den, at the other side of the house, could be heard. “Yes, Batterson. Didn’t you know he was here?”’ “T was talking with Miss Kendry in the drawing-room when Batterson was an- nounced. I had no desire to meet him just then, and came out here. No, by the way, I went up-stairs first and got a cigar. I met a woman in the upper hall I had not seen before. A smallish, dark complex.oned woman.” “Oh, that’s Marie, Joyce’s maid. No, you might be here a week and not see her. She hasn’t been here—well, not more than six months. I’ve only seen her twice.” Fanning was silent, thinking. “That fellow Batterson introduced and recommended her,’’ Tom volunteered. Fanning gave another start. The mystery of the note was explained. “Board,” said Tom a moment later, speaking with a warmth that might have been partly the result of what he had been drinking, ‘“‘there’s a heavy play going on here that I can’t understand. Can you?” “My dear chap,” laughed Fanning, “if you don’t know what is going on in your own house, how do you expect me to know?” “Well, there is logic in that, of course. But I tell you—do you remember that morning I told you I heard stealthy foot- steps in the hall?”’ “Ves, I remember.” “{ did hear them, stealthy.” “Well?” “T heard them again last night, and they seemed to stop at Joyce’s door.” At this statement Fanning was really startled. If he alone was concerned, noth- ing should be known about the note. If there was a plot against Joyce—it was a different matter. “Tom,” he said, taking the note from his wallet, where he had put it to prevent wear, “T have been concealing something from you. As long as it was my own affair that was all right. But if, as you say, there is and they were 591 anything underhand going on concerning your sister, you should know. ‘The footsteps you heard that night were stealthy. They were the footsteps of a person who shoved this note under my door. I found it on the floor when I got out of bed, just before you came in. I had not read it then, and hid it. “T have been wondering a good deal about it since. It seemed that I was an un- welcome guest. Then you remember, you had a private audience with your father that same morning after breakfast, and when you joined me out here you proposed a trip —the very thing that we did take in Batter- son’s yacht. That seemed to prove to me that what the note indicated was true, and that I was—well—not wanted here.”’ Tom, who sat with the still folded note in his hand, stared almost wildly at Fanning. “Not wanted here? Not wanted here! Why, it was the governor himself who told me to bring you here. He wanted to know you. He had heard me—not wanted! Good Lord! But wait till I read this.” As he read his face grew dark, till it be- came almost black with rage. Then a mighty oath burst from him, which again . was an unusual thing for Tom Kendry. ‘She wrote this—Marie. I understand now why she was put here! As a spy on Joyce. To work in Batterson’s interest. I'll kill that brute. I'll kill him as sure as there’s a sun in the heavens.” “You will kill whom, my brother?” asked Joyce, who at that moment came from the house. “That man Batterson.” Joyce stood looking keenly and sorrow- fully at the brother she loved so well. She saw at once that he had been drinking, and knowing of no other cause for the outbreak felt like bursting into tears. “Why, Tom!” was all she could say. ‘You won’t say ‘why Tom,’ when you read this.” : “T protest,” said Fanning quickly. ‘“That is my property, Tom, and I won’t have Miss Kendry unsettled by it.” “Your property be hanged! It is the property of the whole Kendry family. Do you know why Batterson sent that woman Marie to you, Joyce? As aspy! As an intriguer in his interest.’’ “Ob; Tom!” “Read that,” commanded Tom almost savagely. With a peculiarly graceful eagerness she CORnNICLOOOKS (C@