The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 73: what you’re looking at

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

HAMPTON OF knowing Hampton better. Now we are the best of friends, and I know him for what he is. I am sure that you’d like him if you got better acquainted with him.” “Why, I know him quite well,” she said impatiently. “I have always liked Mr. Hampton, and I would be very glad to have him come here more. But this start- ling change puzzles me. You refused to believe for a long while that Mr. Foxford was anything but a well-bred and agree- able man, and now you condemn him bit- terly. You told me that you had reasons to fear him in a business way, but your fear has apparently been overcome. Now that you turn to Mr. Hampton and get so enthusiastic about him, it almost seems that you have found some reason to fear him, and that you want me to be nice to him on. that account. I have always wanted to help you, father, and be in sym- pathy with all your affairs, but it seems a little hard that I should have to adapt my- self to all the changes among your friends and enemies.” Delroy sighed and shrugged his shoul- ders with an air of feeling hurt and mis- understood. “Well, my dear,” he told her, “‘we’ll say no more about it, and think no more about it. You are perfectly right; I should not bring my troubles and worries into my home and burden you with them. As for my having reason to fear young Hampton, that’s too absurd!- He knows nothing of business and our relations have been of the simplest. No, no, my dear; you must give me credit for being able to admire a man for his uprightness of character and general good qualities.” “Tm very glad that you do,” said Eugenia, but her manner was still cold and it did not thaw during dinner. Delroy left the table after gulping down his coffee and went out to the garage. Eugenia thought he had taken the car out for the evening, but in half an hour he was back again, and she heard him pacing the floor of the library in the agitation which she had marked in him so often of late. About nine o’clock she heard the car THE HEIGHTS. 63 rumble out of the garage and she called to her father and asked him if the chauffeur had permission to use it. “Tt’s all right,” Delroy answered quick- ly; “I told Harry that he might go down- town. I have to go out presently to do some errands in this neighborhood, and I have a late appointment, unfortunately. Harry will pick me up down-town and bring me home.” Eugenia was surprised and disturbed. “That will leave me and the maid alone here,” she protested. ‘You know that we are very nervous, anyway, and—”’ “Y’m very sorry, Eugenia,” Delroy in- terrupted, a trifle impatiently, “but it can’t be helped this time. As a matter of fact, Harry has to do a bit of an errand for me, and that’s why I let him go. I am not leaving you alone here merely that I may have the car to bring me home.” He heard the girl close her door and it irked him to think that he had undoubted- ly hurt her; but he reflected that there was too much afoot for him to give thought to the minor details of the household. He continued to pace the room nervously, and at nine-thirty he put on a loose raincoat and a tweed cap, took a heavy walking- stick, and left the house quietly. He walked rapidly down to Dyckman Street, then climbed the St. Nicholas Ave- nue hill to Fort George, where he took cautiously to the dark road that bordered the burned and ruined portion of the amusement park. On the crest of the hill he sat down in the grass among rocks that concealed him from chance wayfarers. Below him he could see the shooting gallery. North of that some of the beer gardens, motion-picture theatres and sundry amusement enterprises were in half-hearted operation, bravely struggling against the decline of the summer resort which once regarded itself as a competitor of Coney Island. A half hour passed and Delroy sat pa- tiently and watched the scattering pedes- trians, the street-cars and the occasional automobiles that passed below him. Near eleven o’clock, as he was standing erect CORNICLOOOKS (C@)