The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

HAMPTON OF storm the Delroy stronghold soon after daybreak. However, Hampton, your ex- planation is satisfactory. A girl, in any case, puts everything in a new light.” “Delroy practically urged me to remain here on the old terms,” said Jerry, smiling significantly. “At first we clashed a bit, but when I declared that I would not stay here the man seemed positively terrified.” “Ah!” Exmoor exclaimed, with evident understanding, but said no more. ‘‘We fenced for a while, talking in cir- cles,” Jerry continued, “but what aston- ished me most was that he didn’t once mention the telegram from Philadelphia, or you. The nearest he*came to a leading question was when he asked bluntly: ‘How did you do it?’ I answered just as bluntly that I didn’t know. After that he seemed afraid to press his inquiry any further.” ‘Naturally!’ Exmoor remarked quietly. “T will tell you just this, Hampton: If you knew the code in which that telegram was written, and could translate the mes- sage then you would not be astonished at Delroy’s peculiar reticence; your aston- ishment would be for other things. Some time I may be able to relieve your curios- ity; I can’t tell you any more now.” “T have no right to inquire,” protested Jerry. ‘“Wou have done so much for us here, Exmoor, that I certainly should have no feeling other than gratitude. It’s natu- ral, I think, that I should be puzzled, and perhaps a bit uneasy; but the big thing is, that the farm is saved! I hate-to think that the man has been coerced into yield- ing to my wishes, but it eases my con- science to think that he begged me to stay here.” “TY wouldn’t feel uneasy about it, if I were you,” Exmoor advised. “I will admit —it would be idle to deny it—that Delroy was coerced; but I'll give you my word, Hampton, that the circumstances were so peculiar that no injustice, in any sense, was done the man.” Jerry shrugged his shoulders and signi- fied by a gesture that the case was beyond his comprehension. “Tt’s essentially an Aladdin’s-lamp sort THE HEIGHTS. 29 of an affair all the way through,” he ob- served. “I want you to know, too, Ex- moor, that I appreciate the return you have made for whatever service I rendered you. Of course a man is grateful to any one for saving his life, but I didn’t suffer very much in doing it. And unless I un- derstand this affair some time, I shall al- ways feel, in spite of your assurances, that you fixed this matter for me at great sac- rifice.”’ “Tt can’t offer you any more assurances to the contrary,” returned the other, ‘‘so— well, we’ll have to let it go for the future to settle. Meanwhile, I am still at your service, and I still have—let us say, Alad- din’s lamp. If I can save the beautiful lady from the many-adjectived beast, tell me how to get about it, and it’s as good as | done.” Hampton smiled sadly. “Please forget that, Exmoor, if you can,” he replied. “I was raving. It seems that I am still young enough to have ro- mantic brain-storms. But there are some things we haven’t any right to butt into, and I suppose that is one of them.” Exmoor placed a hand gently on his shoulder. “That all depends, my dear fellow,” he said, “on how much you really care for the girl.” . CHAPTER VIII. THE TELEPHONE IN WAR. "[ HE two men spent most of the day in- doors. Exmoor feared that Milton Delroy might drop in to pay his prom- ised visit to the grandmother, and failing that, it was possible that the nonchalant chauffeur or some other emissary might pass that way on the pretext of delivering a message. In the evening Exmoor was clothed again in his flannels, which had been re- stored to smartness by a St. Nicholas Avenue tailor, and Jerry furnished a hat to complete his equipment for walking abroad. CORMICLOOOLK< (E@)