Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

THE YELLOW EMERALD. and hopeless, yet dull and mellow and half muffled. from passing through many parti- tions and empty rooms. ‘But it was horror- struck! The sort of sound, as the swift thought came to Tarton, that a girl would make with a hairy, apelike hand vising her chin— He found the door, tried the knob, fell back, charged once, twice, in vain. The panels were strong, and locked on the out- side. Again the cry wailed out, frantic with terror. It was the voice he had heard in the dream—the one he had imagined was from his girl of the library. A swarm of questions beat subconsciously on his brain as he fought with the door— how she came to be there, who she was, what was her connection with the stolen magazines whose contents he had found so innocent, but which she seemed to fear so much—and that not unreasonably, as it began to appear. It all came over him in a flash as he stepped back, considering—what a crazily wild ‘‘ Arabian Nights” fracas he had got snarled into! Yet it would be worth while, if he could but get out, and down there _ where she was, in time. ‘ He ran over to the window and thrust his head out. It looked down on the back yard, three stories below, faintly aglow from the lighted panes of the other block, a Stone’s throw opposite. Out here all was peaceful. Through an open window some- where came the crooning of a harmonica and the strident quaver of a foreign voice in song. A burst of laughter from some- where else. The clink of glasses and the rhythmic stamp of Slavic dancers. All around people were amusing themselves leisurely, as if nothing had happened, while down beneath him, in this house of astonish- ing events— Leaning farther out, Tarton saw what had at first escaped him. It was the fire- escape, a narrow iron ladder fastened close to the brickwork to the right of the window. He scrambled to the sill and leaned out. The thing was in easy distance. He got a hand and foothold and swung over. As he started clambering down it oc- curred to him that the thing probably didn’t . —* ; a. al be _—— = Ce): ket 2 et eee et 2.7 Js ye ee OS pte al ah 2 eg an A AN ere aoe reach- within ten feet of the ground. He — = would have to drop. Where— He was passing the second-story w indow. There was a faint glimmer on the black pane, suggesting a light within, and, swing- ing over, one foot on the sill and a hand on the sash as he straddled empty space, he peered in. The room was empty, but through the opposite open door he could see into the hall where a small gas flame was flickering. At the moment all was silent; then from somewhere beyond came the rasping voice of the man, pitched angrily, and mingling with it the girl’s. Tarton thrilled. It was his girl! was no mistaking at that distance. on earth—what could it be? The quarrel was waxing hotter again, Both voices. were rising, his threateningly, hers pleadingly. Experimentally Tarton tried the sash. It was not locked, and swung up noiselessly. For a thoroughgoing bad man, the hairy customer certainly took big chances, he reflected, as he glided snakelike over the sill and sank to the floor. Suppose a Pinkerton was after him! This must be a very private matter, indeed, where outside interference was unthinkable. Tarton stole to the hall door and peeked round the corner. They were across in the room to the right, whose door stood six inches open. He could hear them quite plainly, yet not a word could be understood. In a moment, comprehending the reason, he swore soitly and scowled. They were using a foreign language, one full of queer vowels. and soft guttural consonants. Their tones had fallen again, and for the moment they were conversing softly, even pleasantly. He strained his ears to pick up There What a word, a single syllable by which he might characterize the-tongue. But that, as he concluded in a moment, was quite useless. He was not enough of a linguist. Holding his place he waited, thinking. There was a dead man in the room down- stairs—unless the body had been removed, which wasn’t likely. The big fellow had killed him, without doubt. Equally doubt- less the girl knew of it. Possibly she had ° ~ stood in the doorway, watching, as the great = thumb had forced his chin round and back ~ “ee 3 = _— o SO ee - Big eh I I We a SE ge a < —— 2 ae ieee ba ee — we = a ot — - =