Argosy, Vol. 111, No. 1 — page 169: what you’re looking at

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

BLONDE OR then he blew a kiss into the darkness above. He looked out of the front door; the two sentries were still on duty, effectively block- ing exit in that direction. Kenneth planned a different course of action. He stepped into a room just off the hall and struck an- other match. Smiling at him was the girl, not in the flesh, but as caught by the camera. There was no idea of theft in the heart of Kenneth Howard when he pos- sessed himself of that photograph as a me- mento of this wild evening. Then he felt his way across into an- other room, where a window opened out onto a stretch of lawn. He carefully turned the latch and succeeded in raising the lower sash about three inches when he heard a faint, tinkling sound. He redoubled his efforts, but the window seemed to stick— strain and struggle as he would. He was about to try another ‘window when sud- denly he discovered the awful significance of it—the windows were equipped with one of old man Dunham’s pet burglar-alarms. Kenneth did not have time decently to tremble with the fear that tore his soul to shreds and sent cold chills and hot spasms through his body, before all the electric lights assumed life and the entire lower part of the house was ablaze. He stood blinking foolishly in the sudden flood of light, not knowing which way to turn. He was in a large study-workroom. Spread out on a table in the center of the space were sets of plans. He recognized them at once as entries in the Designers’ League Competition. He thought he recog- nized his own half submerged among rolls of others. He was tempted to look at them—all of them, but the insecurity of his position caused him again to turn to his work on the window. If he should be discovered in this room, all his hopes of winning the competi- tion would be gone, while the mere fact of being found here under such suspicious cir- cumstances— But his efforts with the window were as fruitless as before. He was about to turn and dash out the front way, taking his chances with Bob and his blood-thirsty com- panion, when: _ “What interests me,” said a quiet voice, BRUNETTE. 159 one that he knew only too well, “is, how you got in.” There is no guilt like the guilt of the innocent, and no real culprit caught red- handed could have made a sorrier showing than did Kenneth. His back was turned and his head hung in shame. How could he face his employer? And could he tell of coming home with Helen Dunham? No! But why should he conceal it? ‘Turn around!” came the command, and there was nothing to do but obey. He tried to look into the eyes of his employer, who stood attired in a dressing-gown, pointing a dangerous-looking weapon at him. “Great guns!” he cried. ‘‘ Kenneth Howard! What in the name of Heaven does this mean?. What are you doing in my house at this time of night?” ‘* [—I—can’t say just now, sir,” faltered Kenneth. “Well, I guess you will say, and damn quick, too! Come, now!” ‘“‘ [—JI—can’t,” protested Kenneth. ‘““Oh, boy, how can you stand there and tantalize me? Don’t you know yow’re breaking my heart? Here I’ve been watch- ing over you for three years now, nurturing the spark of genius you have, and now I find you here like a thief in the night, look- ing over the plans of the competition.” Now Kenneth felt worse than a murderer, and when he tried to speak he lost the power of articulation. ““What’s that you have under your coat?” suddenly demanded Mr. Dunham. ‘““ Nothing!” declared Kenneth. Mr. Dunham knew better, and he ad- vanced to investigate. Kenneth began to back away. Then there ensued a terrific racket in the front, and Mr. Dunham, marching Kenneth before him, opened the door. Four blue- coated policemen piled in. They had cap- tives. They dragged in, none too gently, the young gentlemen who had been a tor- ment to Kenneth Howard for the better part of the day. “These young devils was actin’ as look- outs, sir,’ reported the sergeant, while one of his men went to the back door to admit another detachment of police. Mr. Dunham looked at the two captives cComicoool. CO