The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 15: what you’re looking at

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

HAMPTON OF “Hurry!” exclaimed Jerry encourag- ingly; ‘‘there’s an auto coming.” Exmoor obeyed with nervous alacrity, but three-quarters of the way over the thoroughfare his shuffling feet failed him; he stumbled and pitched to his knees. Simultaneously there was a frenzied cry from Jerry Hampton and the raucous blare of an automobile horn. Another man cried out sharply, machinery clanked, brakes ground their way into place, and Jerry dragged his companion away from something little short of actual contact with the motor-car’s wheels. A woman sprang suddenly from the rear seat and flew to the prostrate man. She wore a long, loose coat, and a veil fluttered from her toque, but one needed only a glance to see that she was young and of rather distinguished bearing. ~ “Then we did strike him!” she cried sorrowfully. Jerry stood up and bowed deferen- tially, after a’ momentary start of recog- nition. “Miss Delroy!” he exclaimed, and add- ed hastily: ‘‘No, your car was stopped just in time. But this man is ill and he fell in trying to get out of the way.” The girl stepped forward and leaned down toward the prostrate figure, with murmurs of sympathy and regret, but Exmoor blundered suddenly to his feet and drew away from her. “T’m quite all right now, thank you,” he said feebly. ‘“There’s no harm done. We'll go on, Mr. Hampton, if you don’t mind.” “You are taking your friend to your home, Mr. Hampton?” queried the girl. Jerry answered affirmatively. “Why then you must get right into my car and let me carry you there!” she ex- claimed. “That’s the least I can do! It’s odd—isn’t it?-—that I should come so near having a serious accident, and that I should find you so nearly a victim of my recklessness, Mr. Hampton. Harry is really a careful chauffeur, but I have to confess, in justice to him, that I had just told him to put on a little more speed.” - THE HEIGHTS. 5 “There’s absolutely no harm done,” re- iterated Exmoor a bit coldly. ‘It was in no way your fault, at any rate. Thank you for offering us the use of your car, but I’m all right, now, and Mr. Hampton and I can go on without any difficulty.” “But I really want to do you that small service,” insisted the girl. “Won’t you please get into the car, Mr.—” “I beg your pardon, Miss Delroy,” — broke in Hampton, confused and chagrined because he had not thought of. intro- ducing his new found friend. “May [I present Mr.—-” “My name is Tarleton, Miss Delroy!” Exmoor interrupted, speaking almost sharply in his haste to check Jerry’s ut- terance. “Will you let me thank you again for your kindness, and pardon me if I repeat that I need no further help?” Something in his tone discouraged the girl from further insistence. “Well, if you’d really rather walk, I suppose I can’t force you to ride,’ she said. “I’m very glad you were not hurt, Mr.—er—Mr. Tarleton.” She reentered her car, bade Jerry a cordial good night, and rode away, ecau- tioning her chauffeur as they started to keep to a soberer pace. Exmoor, stronger and quite self-suffi- cient for the moment, turned like a-flash upon Jerry. “Who was that girl?” he demanded. Jerry resented the tone. | “You heard me call her Miss Delroy,” he answered curtly. “T know,” said Exmoor, “but—Oh, you see what I mean! I am not merely cu- rious, but—whose daughter is she? Does she live in this neighborhood? I’m not an inquisitive cad, Hampton! I have reasons for—” “Miss Delroy is the daughter of Milton Delroy,” Jerry announced icily. ‘““Mr. Del- roy is a retired business man, and they live just above here. It’s no secret, I’m sure.” Exmoor struck one hand sharply into the palm of the other. . “Why did I ask?” he muttered. “I GO NOOLKS AMUG (E@)