The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 1 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

24 coat, and was backing out with them as Dr. Jim said suddenly: ““She’s not in here?” No, sir.” ‘May I—er—see her, please?” “T will ascertain, sir,” the butler mur- mured, disappearing without drawing a sound from the deep-piled carpets! In here the stillness was even more op- pressive than outdoors! The air was thick and heavy and stale, too, as if the house had been closed for years—and yet ‘that could hardly be, with servants in the place, and Miss Catterson walking in as a matter of course. 3 . Dr. Bowen, scowling in his perplexity, dropped into the depths of a big chair and looked out. What sort of place was it, anyway? A private residence, of course, and one of wealthy people; and peculiar people, too, for they did not use their home. Dr. Jim’s forefinger, moving over the slip- cover at his side, came away with a quan- tity of fine dust on the tip. He studied it thoughtfully for several minutes and sought the answer; he ended by shrug- ging his shoulders once more. After all, of what concern was it to him how the owners of the place attend- ed to their housekeeping? His object here—well, just what was his object here, anyway? To learn the girl’s whereabouts, Age taniy and, if necessary, explain to ] e family that she was mentally not her- Self. t Or, perhaps, by a question or two, to ‘earn that she had hidden Catterson’s box in the home of their friends or— _ Dr. Bowen started frankly at the sight of the butler. “Beg pardon, sir, will you be good enough to wait,” that person murmured. “ Miss Catterson is in the house?” *Ves,: sir,”’ “ Will she—er—see me?” “Tm not at liberty to state, sir. My instructions are to request you to wait, if you please.” “Is she—all right?” asked Dr. Bowen. “T believe so, sir,” said the sober one. THE ARGOSY. He was backing out again. The phy- sician from Hallas; staring at him, spoke rather sharply: ‘Well, wait a minute, you! I want to know more about Miss Catterson, please. Ts this the house of some of her friends?” ‘““T am not at liberty to state, sir.” “What? Why not?” ‘“'My orders are to the contrary, sir.” ‘Hang your orders! I want to know where I am and—see here! Take my card to the—er—mistress of the house and say that I ask the favor of a five minute chat, will you?” “No, sir,” the butler said steadily, and shook his head, with the faintest smile ‘of apology. “Well, why can’t you do that?” Dr. Bowen demanded blankly. “T am not at liberty to state, sir,” the butler repeated. “Tsn’t'the lady at home?” ‘“T am not at liberty to state, sir.” Dr. James Bowen smiled tartly. “Ts that all you’re able to say?” he snapped. . ‘Beg pardon, sir, it may seem extra- ordinary to you, sir, but those are my or- _ders,” the other said imperturbably. “ I’m instructed to ask you, sir, if you'll be good enough to wait. That was all, sir.” “Wait for what?” “T couldn’t say, sir.” Dr. Bowen threw up his hands in ex- asperation. “Very well, then; I'll wait,” he said. “And meanwhile, whatever your orders happen to be, take my card to the lady of the house—or the master of the house, if there is no lady—and say that it is really urgent that I talk to her or to him. You understand that?” | “Perfectly, sir,” replied the wooden one, as he accepted the card and backed toward the door again. “I’ve left the evening papers on the table there, sir, if you’d care to see them.” Once more he vanished, card in hand. Dr. Jim, whistling a little tune through his excellent teeth, smiled at the dusty magnificence and waited for a time. - COpnicoow<S (E@)