The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

152 the man sat there and told me in so many words? He said that you had been en- gaged to Rossmore, once upon a time, and d) - “Jimmy dear, are you quite sure he said that?” Sibyl inquired, and _ her breathing grew more rapid. Out in the big office really the most ominous growl of all arose suddenly. Dar- ton, having listened to it for an instant, threw out his hands and, in spite of all, grinned. “Sibyl,” said he, “‘do you think that if I hadn’t been entirely sure of what he said and that you were lost to me forever, I could have started anything like this?” Sibyl Dane turned from him suddenly and picked up his telephone. The chair- man of the American Committee started as he caught her eye while she was calling for the number. Like most lovers in this world, he had not even suspected that that particular eye could glint, but just now it seemed to be shedding fiery sparks. “Bostwick and Dane?” said Sibyl. “TI wish to speak to Mr. Dane. This is Miss Dane.” Then, after a little pause during which Jimmy Darton blinked and his friend Thomas Morely grinned, the honeyed tone went on: “Oh, father? This is Sibyl. Yes, we’re back. Father, did Mr. Bost- wick call on Jimmy Darton a few days ago?” It may have been merely an eccentricity of the telephone receiver, but what sound- ed exactly like a frightened yelp rattled its receiver; there were words, too, and Sibyl listened to them impatiently with lips compressed. “Ves, I know you’re busy, father, but this is very important to me. . No, dear, to-night will not do; I don’t bother you very often during business hours, dad, but this time I want five minutes. Yes, what I want to know is, exactly what Mr. Bostwick said to Jimmy and how he happened to say it. . . . Yes, everything! Because it was the most cowardly, contemptible—”’ Here the diaphragm took to rattling THE ARGOSY. again and Sibyl listened on, now and then stimulating the flow, presumably, of con- fession at the other end by a word or two. Minutes passed, and still the buzzing went on; presently it died down and Sibyl said: “No, I don’t think Mr. Bostwick is all to blame, because he’d never have done it but for your suggestion; and if you really regretted it, you’d have gone to Jimmy and told him the whole truth and apolo- gized just as humbly as you knew how! . . Yes, you would!” said Sibyl. “And he’s the most horrible old man, I ever gsood-by, father!” Karth’s faire daughter turned back to her beloved with lips still tight. , “T learned the truth,” she said. ‘‘Fath- er has always felt that you weren’t quite rich enough to marry, Jimmy—he didn’t like the idea of your writing, anyway—and that dreadful Bostwick offered to settle the whole thing for him and get you out of the way and I couldn’t have be- lieved it of father.” ‘And there wasn’t a word of truth in it, eh?” Morely cried. Sibyl was looking straight into her Jim- my’s eyes. “There’s only one steamer every three months to that Bingalong place!” she said. “Just four steamers and four mails a year!”’ Darton laughed. “Maybe your father wasn’t very much to blame,” he said. “I’m not worth a girl like you, but—I’m hanged if anything like Bostwick shall take you from me, Sibyl! But, Lord! I don’t care now! TI’ll for- give the whole world; I’ll forgive even Bostwick! It’s all over now and we— we can take up life again. . . I guess I’ll go out and explain to that mob that all bets are off,” he ended quite cheerfully. ‘‘And have yourself torn to bits?” More- ly cut in. “Would they really do that?” cried Sibyl. “They’ve been trying to find him, for no other purpose, this last hour or so and —here, you!”’ said Tommy. ‘We're not GomiGcbdooks (C@