Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

2 oe = ‘ = : PA ME ates Oy hee Lathe AMR NA, dS hg At hx sy Q ' t iy 4 224 THE ARGOSY. hold water,’ William said impatiently. “Now! What’s her name?” Annabel sighed quiveringly. ‘“T might have gone to stay with Edith Dinsmore, if anything like that had really happened.” e. ‘Fine! Where does she live?” “Oh, she and her husband have a suite at that little Hotel Conynge. He’s down South somewhere now.” “ Better still. Get her on the telephone just as soon as you reach home. I think that covers everything that’s likely to turn up. Got it all pat?” “Edith Dinsmore—Hotel Conynge— yes,’ Annabel murmured sorrowfully. “Well, don’t look so downcast,” William said quietly. ‘‘I’m pretty strong for the truth myself as a rule, but there are times when it’s no good at all and this is one\ of them.” “Tf it wasn’t for Jackie’s sake—I’d do anything in the world to be sure Jackie was happy!” “Well, there you are, kid!” William laughed, with a brotherly pat on the little shoulder. ‘“‘ It’s all right, you see. Some day or other, we may know the truth of this whole crazy business, and if we do we'll have to keep it to ourselves. Just now we’ve got the present fixed up and that’s enough! I think we'll sneak that car out just as inconspicuously as possible.” “Yes! Because that boy saw us start off together last night!” Mrs. Elton trembled. “Well, you walk around the shed and down to the road and he'll see me start off alone this morning. Better take that little path; you’re not so likely to be noticed from the hotel.” * With an encouraging grin he watched her start, waited a little and, very quietly indeed, entered the old carriage shed. The beautiful red roadster stood there, all alone. The Turnstile Inn itself was re- assuringly still at this hour, too. William glanced at it as he approached his motor; some one would come out and demand storage money. Still nobody had appeared as yet, and he was in the car with the engine running. William gazed at the silent hostelry and backed out. There were no signs of life from the Turnstile, and with a grunt he backed on to the road, came about and sped down to Mrs. Elton, so small and for- lom at the roadside. If speed had been necessary last night, it was more necessary this morning. Wil- liam’s eyes settled to a chronic squint as he pushed the excellent car onward—and onward, still faster and— ‘My coat! I’m cold!” came plaintively and indistinctly through the rush of air. William paused a little and gazed at the rack, “Stolen, overnight,” he said briefly. ‘Take mine!”’ : ve No! 9 “Yes!” said William and slid out of it feverishly. ‘It’s too bad; that was a pretty coat.” “Yes, and I was going to use that twenty dollars to buy Jackie a—”’ Heartless it may have been, but William lost the rest of it in his new burst of speed. There~was no time for consoling now; houses blinked at them as little spots and vanished; telegraph poles, now that they had swung into the State road again, be- gan to take on the aspect of a picket fence. But they were getting back to Blythedale in great old time! William grinned excited pleasure at the sight of the familiar main street well ahead and brought his car to a more respectable pace. His adventure was over. He had broken a promise to Helen and reaped the conse- quences. Before night, perhaps, he would have reaped another crop of’them in a business way; just now it was really enough for William that they were safely back in the town and that little Mrs. Elton was ‘provided with a plausible tale to account for the most outrageous night two people had ever encountered since the world’s be- ginning. William sighed. He owned a conscience. Really, dashing into that incredible place had been largely his own fault. He glanced at the exquisite little blond girl beside him, as he slewed down and finally stopped at the curb. She was on his con- science rather heavily; business or no busi- ° ness, he would have spent a good deal more = Comicbooks.com — - es na = “ > — =