The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 1 — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

THANKS TO THE B. R. T. for the incandescent bracket just within reach. He gazed about again and selected the farther door. He opened it and stepped in swiftly and with a cheerful disregard of the sleeper who sim possibly lie be- yond. The faint rays from the corridor showed him the fixture in here quickly enough. He snapped on the lights and, almost immediately, shook his head. It was a bedroom, but it had been long with- out a tenant. The bare spring was covered only by a Sheet, and the.same canvas slips appeared on the larger pieces of furniture. He turned away from it all and hurried back to the upper corridor—and a hoarse shout escaped him as he came face to face with the butler once more! The servant showed’ no sign at all of having slept or of having even contem- plated retiring. He was fully dressed and wide awake; one extremely quick glance, Dr. Bowen fancied, was shot at him by the small eyes, but the man seemad alto- gether without expression again as he de- manded: ““Where’s Miss Catterson?”’ ‘“ Beg pardon, sir?” the man asked stu- pidly. “ Cut out that nonsense now, my man!” Dr. Jim said sharply. “ I don’t know the answer to all this, and I haven’t time to look for it now, aera is Miss Cat- terson?” ~The butler gazed up at him almost re- signedly for a moment—gazed over his shoulder and then down-stairs; and then he came closer to the all-night guest and his voice dropped oddly: _“ Beg pardon, sir,” he breathed, “ but will you step up-stairs for a bit?” “ What?” ‘““Up to my room, sir; if you please. It—it ain’t safe talking here, I think, and I’d like to explain.” ‘“* Explain what?” “The whole thing, sir, orders or no orders,” the butler said-quickly. “I can’t stand no more of it, sir. I’m scared to effect had not failed! 31 death myself, sir! ened that it seems—”’ “No, you’re not; you’re just lying,” and Dr. Bowen’s smile was curious as he looked more closely into the man’s face. ‘IT could tell you about two dozen symp- toms of a man who’s frightened to death, and you haven’t an indication of one of them. You’re trying to put over some idiocy, and it doesn’t go. Now—where is Miss Catterson?”’ The butler’s eyes dropped. ‘TI couldn’t say, sir,” he said doggedly. “You only think you can’t!” Dr. Bow- en assured him as he: grigped the thick throat and jammed its owner against the wall in rather less than a second! “ I'll prove to you that you can. Going to make a fight of it, eh?” He set his feet more firmly and tight- ened his grip as somebody’s butler sought in vain to deliver a very nasty uppercut. He smiled again, did Dr. Bowen, and there was something in the smile which caused the butler’s eyes to loiter on his own. ‘You strike me just once and I’ll snap your windpipe in two with this thumb and finger—feel ’em?” he said impres- sively. ‘I’m a doctor, you know, and I know just how to finish you with one twist. Now, for the last time, where is Miss’ Catterson? You can’t talk point!” Whatever his speech may have lacked in anatomical soundness, The butler, open mouth struggling for speech, popping eyes wild. with genuine fright, sought to shake his head and failed. The fingers tightened suggestively—and past their grip came a strangling: “There! There! ‘There, doc!” His hand was thrusting wildly toward the rear of the house, and Dr. Bowen’s erip relaxed. “Tl take you with me until I see whether you’re lying,” he said quietly. “Tf you’re not, get out of my way and. keep out, because [ll kill you next time! And if you are, I think I'll finish you, COPMICLOOOKS the dramatic I'm that cold fright- — (EOLA