The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 1 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

46 The red-faced arrival, breathing hard, lumbered over, kicked aside the screen, and finally located the glass as he asked: “What happened. to him, Fenner? What’s the matter with him?” . ce He—”’ “Was that a genuine fight going on here when I came in?” the red-faced man puffed as he returned with the water. He of the shirt-sleeves laughed some- what wildly. “Tt was, and that’s what happened to him,” said he. “He tried to put some sort of lunatic finishing touch on it—I don’t know what. He wanted to take him in his car, you know, and get him out of town—”’ “But he didn’t have Whinnys at all! That’s not Whinnys!”’ “Who is it, then?” the shirt-sleeved man began, as he bathed the brow of the evident Mr. Harrison. ‘“‘ Why, Tyne, it— aha! He’s coming around now.” One on either side of him, they poured further water on Mr. Harrison, mumbling over him and talking to him in a discon- nected and terrified way that might have been mildly funny under other circum- stances. Dr. Bowen, still heated enough to be honestly disappointed that he had failed to slaughter Mr. Harrison, gave little at- tention to them. Over there in the door- way of the dining-room, Helen Catterson was standing—more beautiful than ever with the snapping eyes and the high flush, winking rapidly but in an entirely differ- ent fashion, for this time she was winking back tears of real anger. Dr. Bowen, unheeded by the distressed gentlemen over their suffering friend, crossed to the doorway, for she was beck- oning tohim. As he came to her she spoke in a quick whisper: “Tell me, please—you’re not Dr. Whinnys?”’ “ Certainly not.” “Then who—who are you?” “Dr. Bowen, as it happens,” smiled that gentleman, and for a little all the rest of the muddle ceased to be and she alone THE ARGOSY. was there. ‘‘ Miss Catterson, this is all beyond me just now, but—” “Tm not Miss Catterson—there is no Miss Catterson. His name isn’t even Catterson, I believe!” said the astonishing young woman. “ And I’m not Mrs. Dal- bane—or whatever he called her. knew that anything—anything of that kind was contemplated! You do believe that, don’t you?” she asked, miserably. ‘And your mind is not at all affected, is it?” Dr. Bowen muttered. “I’ve been suspecting that for some time.” ‘Tt isn’t and it never has been, except that I must have been born a fool!”’ the girl said bitterly. ‘‘ And if you’re not Dr. Whinnys, the trouble I’ve made for you— oh!” Dr. James Bowen found that he had taken firm hold of the two slim hands clenched so distressedly before him. ‘* My child,” said he, “ the joy of being near you for one evening is such utter compensation for any trouble you could make that—”’ Her eyes, after one swift upward glance ef wholly warranted astonishment, went past him. Abruptly, the hands closed warhingly over one of Dr. Bowen’s, and she nodded toward the room; and Dr. Bowen, stepping down from his cloud, perceived that Harrison was sitting up. He was able to talk, too, as they lifted him to the chair beside the desk. : ‘“ What? Whinnys? I don’t care a damn who he is, Tyne! The lout nearly killed me, and I’ll jail him for it as sure—” “Hush!” the red-faced man cautioned, while he of the shirt-sleeves sent his hands through his thick hair and seemed to be fighting off a little impending insanity of his own. “Tl do no hushing!” snarled Dr. Jim’s victim. “T’ll get back at him if I have to spend ten thousand dollars, I tell you!” “But that’s—that’s ridiculous!” the apparent master of the house protested. “You can’t do that without making public—”’ 7 “Tt’s not my pot of beans that’ll be spilled!” Harrison said savagely. “I was oe (EO) NOOLKS AMG I never. (©)