The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

THE MAN IN 419. While he spoke, however, there was only one thought in his mind. Blanche had told some one else that she loved him. Then it was true. Never could she have made such a declaration had it been a mere passing fancy, a trick of tempera- ment. He had dared to doubt, for, ever since that fateful night at the Chateau Lenoir he had been careful not to see her alone. While one part of his brain was express- ing all this silently, another part of his brain was directing his speech. “For I am going away,” he was saying. “T agree with what M. du Barry said in the first place about divine right. It’s 139 either that or no royalty at all, and I was willing to die to see the Duke of Angou- léme on the throne. Instead of dying I must merely go away. But I do beg one last privilege.”’ “The privilege is granted,” said the duke, “but—” Before his majesty could complete the qualification of the favor, Knowlton had taken advantage of it. “The privilege is this,” he said softly. He advanced a couple of steps, stood in front of the Marquis de Warren. He reached forward and caught the marquis by an ear and started to lift him up, much as a country schoolmaster might have done. TO BE CONCLUDED, our bus-driver, told me that later. The brim of his soft felt hat was pulled down over his eyes. The collar of his overcoat—which seemed to cover a robust chest and pair of shoulders—was buttoned tight around his chin. The rest of his face was bundled up in H* came in on the five-eleven. Jerry, BK Fhompeen ae a white silk muffler, as though to protect it from the cold. Just his eyes, that were half hidden in the shadow of the pulled- down hatbrim, and the tip of his nose and his cheekbones, were all that showed. The only thing I could feel sure of about him, as I swung the register around for him to sign, was his size. He ap- COmMICLOOOKS (C@)