Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 85: what you’re looking at

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

THE YELLOW EMERALD. and hands, whose touch was death—and closed his eyes and swung his sword. At the same instant they met. The force of impact sent Tarton crashing on his back. The sword flew from his hands. Under the weight of the great body he was stamped clean of breath. Momentarily, as he im- agined the fingers at his throat, he listened for the girl. Had she been killed? Would she—could she—come to the rescue? CHAPTER V. THE LIBRARY GIRL. OR a long moment he waited. Nothing happened. He had felt the arms knit- ting round him, then a hand brushed his shoulder, working toward the front. Madly he tore at it, and after an instant it had weakened and grown limp. He flung it away. The great carcass was motionless and soggy. With an effort that took every ounce of his strength, Tarton twisted to his side, rolling it off. Groggily he sat up and peered at him. The fellow was knocked out. From above the ear where the heavy saber had struck a glancing blow blood was trickling. There was a smear of it on Tarton’s own cheek, which he felt and wiped off shudderingly. But the cut was not deep. In a short time, possibly only a few minutes, he would re- vive. Even as he looked the great hands twitched and a groan escaped. Tarton got to his feet, weak and dizzy. He found, indeed, that he was obliged to hold on to the edge of the desk to keep from falling. Over on the bed the girl was lying, white- faced, but breathing. She had fainted, he judged. Through one of the doors that had opened on the hall he had seen, he recalled, the white sheen of porcelain. Staggering out he investigated. As he had suspected it was the bath-room. A white pitcher stood on the floor. Filling this with water he took it back and bathed her face and neck. Before long her eyes opened wonder- ingly. ‘‘ Where—where am I?” she whispered. “Youre all right,’ Tarton assured her. “IT just made it, as you might say. That sword was more of a weapon than I im- agined. But you’ll have to hurry and brace up. I’m afraid he’ll be on his feet before you are—”’ Her eyes had been dull and uncompre- hending, but at the mention of the man recollection swept into them and she sat up galvanically. 3 : “Oh!” she cried, hes” “He had your chin,” supplied Tarton grimly, “‘ and in a second more he would have—”’ | ‘““Don’t—don’t say it!’ she screamed. ‘The thought of it—the very idea—” Sud- denly, without a sign of warning, she threw her arms about his neck and buried her head on his shoulder, shuddering. It was clear that she was on the verge of com- plete nervous and physical collapse. Tarton glanced round. The hairy man was mutter- ing and trying to sit up. ‘“We’d better get out of here, hadn’t we?” Tarton suggested. He had gently dis- engaged her arms and stood up in front of her to hide from view the figure on the floor. “I’m afraid, in a minute or two, if we don’t—”’ With a display of nervous strength that astonished him, the girl sprang suddenly to her feet, clinging to his arm. ‘ 'Yes,”’ she said, ‘‘ we must go at once. If he gets up again nothing can stop -him. I told him it was all over, that I would not do it any more. It has been months, and we couldn’t find out. That was why he wanted to kill me. And he said I was re- ‘| remember. He— sponsible for your coming—and—and the other—”’ “The man down-stairs,”’ ton, looking about. things on the bed where she had been sit- ting—several of the papers such as littered the desk, that she had had in her hand when she had started for the door — her handkerchief, a gold pendant with a jewel in it. Mechanically Tarton scooped them up and put them in his pocket. “You mean the man in the front room?” he prompted, leading her toward the door. ‘“ Yes,” she whispered. “ He came a little murmured Tar- There was a tangle of ~ Eomicboo