Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

¥ iy - Pic « oot My if Ney < 222 year—and I’ve been in the last room in the place!” “ But with patients—” “There never were any patients!” Wil- liam said flatly. ‘‘ Some of those beds are without mattresses, and dust an inch thick on the springs. Some of them are made up, with the sheets all yellow—like those in our suite—and dust on them, too! It sounds crazy enough, but it’s fact; nobody has lived here for months!” The plain mystery of the thing should have appealed to Annabel; what she said, however, was: “That woman isn’t here, either!” ‘“Nobody’s here at all! Nobody seems to have been here!” William laughed, rather insanely. ‘‘ Were we—were we here?”’ He moved slowly to the door of the room Dr. Baiswell had dubbed “ fifteen,’ and then strolled in, to reappear a moment Jater with each hand occupied. ““ We were here,” he announced. ‘‘ Here’s your hat and mine. We may as well put them on and get back to conventional things.” He led the way down-stairs and to the Sunshine once more. No powerful atten- dant, no adamantine doctor appeared to interpose one word of protest! They were gone—that was all! They had turned into thin air, just as a presumably bustling in- sane asylum of last night had turned into a dusty, deserted old house this morning. Later on, doubtless, they would learn the answer—if an answer existed this side of purely occult fields. For the present, the Hervey Manufacturing Company was be- ginning to materialize again in its owner’s brain. He would have to hustle to de- liver Mrs. Elton at her. home just as swiftly as might be; he would have to breeze in and try bluffing his way through the matters of the morning. And bluffing with those particular people offered a forlorn hope, as William knew. He drew the door after him and listened to the click of the spring latch. ‘“ Now, we’ll race back just as fast as—” he began. And he paused, to stare through the grove and mutter. “Eh? Who’s the gentleman?”’ “Tt isn’t that doctor?” Mrs. Elton gasped, and clutched him, THE ARGOSY, ‘No, it’s just a plain, ordinary man this time,” William muttered. ‘“ Er—come along. Let me do the talking, if he speaks.” Very evidently, he intended to speak. He sdauntered directly towatd William and Annabel—a good-natured, plainly dressed man, with two or three keys in one hand and a tag attached to them. He bowed. ‘‘ Looking around?” he queried genially. “ Er—um—yes. Looking around,” Wil- liam agreed cautiously. “Not thinking of renting the house?” said the other, and his smile broadened encouragingly. “Do you own it?” “Eh? Own it? No, It belongs to the Simon Graves estate. I’m Barker, the real estate man in Heathervale. I just drop over here once a month to make sure the old place is still standing. ~~ “Well, just what is the old place?” William inquired, even more cautiously than before. “Why, it’s the house old Simon Graves —you’ve heard of him? Lithographer? Millionaire? It’s the place he built after he retired. He lived up here till he died, two years ago, and then his eldest son tried it for a while. Just himself and wife and a couple of servants and it was too big for ’em, I believe,” the agent rambled on, squinting through the trees at the supposed sanatorium. “I’ve been trying to rent it for him ever since, but it’s no go. Too big!”? A queer chilliness crept over William Hervey. ‘Tt hasn’t been occupied at all?” ce Nope.”’ “ It wasn’t occupied yesterday?” The agent stared at him for an instant, finding the tone odd. “It was for about ten minutes yesterday afternoon,” he said. “I went up there to | tinker the hinges on the front door—they’ve | been loose for months—and I left my screw-driver behind. That’s what I’m going back for now.” He beamed professionally upon them. “Step in and look around? It may be just what you’re after in the way of a house.” ‘“T’m sure it isn’t!”’ William said swiftly, — Gomicbooks, rh yy | pave hd) eae