The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 70: what you’re looking at

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

60 “That comes very near to the facts,” admitted the other readily. “Then I think I see the reason for the postponement of the appointment,” said Jerry. “I believe that Exmoor no longer has the papers—or whatever they were— that he took from your safe.” Delroy went from crimson to white with irrepressible excitement. “You know that?” he cried. ‘How in Heaven’s name do you know it, Hampton? Who has the papers if he hasn’t got them? Don’t drive me wild, man! Has he lost them? Who has them—” “Give me time!” Jerry protested calmly. “The last I knew of your papers, Mr. Del- roy, they were in the possession of Mr. Kingsale; that was at a late hour last night.” Delroy sat down upon a box beside the path and mopped his brow. “From the frying-pan to the fire!” he muttered huskily. “Of the two men I think I’d sooner trust myself to Exmoor; but, believe me, Hampton, they are a pair of the devil’s own.” “You must try not to agitate yourself so violently,” Jerry advised; “after your temporary collapse the other night, you should be very careful. Suppose we take a walk and talk the thing over quietly?” Delroy assented almost humbly, and they left the garden and walked around to Audubon Avenue and through the rocks and fields above Fort George. “When we were talking of Kingsale be- fore,” said Jerry, “you seemed rather pleased than otherwise that he had ap- peared: You may remember that you likened yourself to a rabbit pursued by a hound and a fox.” Delroy nodded moodily. ‘I suppose I was talking in the air,” he confessed. “I didn’t expect such a rapid unfolding of de- velopments. As a matter of fact, I didn’t think Exmoor was such a consummate fool as to let Kingsale get the better of him!” “How about young Mr. Foxford?” in- quired Jerry, watching intently for the ef- fect of this shot. THE ARGOSY. Delroy looked up sharply. “Well, how about him?” he returned. “T am quite through with Foxford, and he doesn’t enter into this case.” “He entered into it very actively, as far as Kingsale was concerned,” Jerry de- clared; “‘so actively that Kingsale all but failed in his object, and—well, he might have lost his life, I fancy, through a little encounter with Foxford. His condition is now one of convalescence, I believe.” Delroy sat down again, this time se- lecting a rock without much attention to its contour. When he could speak he gave vent to several monosyllabic terms that had no logical bearing on the case. “Tt seems,” Jerry went on quietly, “‘that Exmoor and Foxford have formed some sort of a working alliance.” “How the devil do you know all these things, Hampton?” demanded Delroy. ‘““Are you hand-and-glove with all these fellows, or are you one of these popular fiction detectives?” “You will have to make a third guess,” Jerry replied. “I can say only that the things I know have been virtually thrust « upon me, and my eyes and ears have been wide open most of the time.” The older man got up and paced back and forth, his face working convulsively. “Tt’s not so much for myself that I care, Hampton,” he said suddenly; ‘I would throw my cards on the table and take my chance on the show-down; but Eugenia’s happiness is more to me than everything else in the world. There would be a scan- dal if I took this thing to the police—I confess that!—-and you know what such things mean to a young girl. No, Hamp- ton, I’ve been taking threats and insults from some of those jackals, and I'll do almost anything before I'll let Eugenia suffer.” Jerry looked at him searchingly. He suspected that this strain of pathos was another pose, but he found something of real feeling and tense emotion in the usually cold and calculating eyes, and in- voluntarily he softened toward the man. “J can imagine your feelings, Mr. Del- ~ NOOKS COMMUG (C@)