The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 92: what you’re looking at

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

82 THE crets it may contain. [If it is to be opened and examined, she should open it—here and now, before there is a chance for any more violence on account of it.” “God forbid!” groaned Delroy. “She mustn’t touch it.” “And why?” queried Hampton. “Is it because the reading of it would shatter whatever good opinion she ever had of your” Delroy cringed and lifted his hand be- seechingly. “Spare me that!” he said. “I would not have her read it, because there are things there which she never could for- get, and I believe that she could never be as happy again. For myself, I ask no further mercy.” “The packet is so small,” said Jerry reflectively, ‘‘and it holds so much evil and terror, apparently, that one would almost ascribe supernatural properties to it. Could any benefit come to any one from the reading of it?” “Ves!”? Exmoor declared gravely. “It would right a number of wrongs and bene- fit a number of persons materially.” “Including yourself?” Jerry asked pointedly. Ves! ? “Then you are disqualified as an ad- vocate of that course,” commented Jerry. Exmoor fiushed. “You have silenced me, Hampton,” he said. ‘I might suggest, however, that you open the packet and read the matter, even if no one else is permitted to see it. It happens, mysteriously enough, that you are one of the men to be most benefited.” Jerry gave a start and looked intently at Exmoor and at Delroy in turn. “You mean that I should gain by it?” he queried. “Financially?” “Financially, yes,” said Exmoor, ‘‘and very considerably.” “That puts an end to the matter!” Jerry declared. He turned and faced Kingsale. “Vou inspire distrust,” he remarked coldly. ‘‘There’s a revolver in your pocket. Take it very carefully by the barrel and ARGOSY. lift it out, butt foremost, and throw it into that waste-paper basket.” Kingsale muttered sullenly, hestitated, looked sourly at the revolver that was pointed at his breast, then obeyed the command. : There was a saucer-shaped Japanese bronze ash-tray on the table, and Hamp- ton walked over to it. He placed one of his revolvers in his pocket, but kept the other in his right hand. He took from the inside pocket of his waistcoat the now celebrated packet—a brown fiber affair of some four by six inches—and laid it in the tray. Delroy sighed heavily and bowed his head. Kingsale swore softly and locked his fingers~ together nervously. Exmoor neither changed his position nor showed a change of countenance, but his eyes were fixed intently on Hampton’s face and never left it. Hampton drew half a dozen matches from his pocket and struck them all to- gether. As they flared, he laid them on the edge of the packet and held them there until the hard fiber paper smoked, glowed, and finally burst into flame. A little thread of smoke curled toward the ceiling and gave off the pungent odor peculiar to the burning of ancient and musty documents. It suggested nothing of the alluring and impressive aroma of frankincense; it was literally no more than the incineration of some scraps of paper in the first dish that came to hand; yet an elderly man bowed his head low and gave away to deep sobs that racked his frame, and a young girl held her white hands over her eyes and wept with the unrestrained frankness of a child. “I believe,” said Hampton quietly— and in the heavy silence his voice took on almost a mystical quality—‘‘that the document has yet to be written that can — force an honorable man to deviate from his duty, and no more can a document compel a man without honor to observe its laws. If these papers that are burn- ing had some fancied power to establish justice and right wrongs, then their de- CORMICGLOOOKS (C@)