Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

< t Us. ~~ ys oa OP night, didn’t 1?” a century of Manhattan Island boarding- house management—and also one to him- self, emerged from the.game of bluff a dis- tinct winner, and took himself happily out of the front door just as the sun kissed the tree-tops of the little park opposite the house. : Not far away he knew of a hotel where accommodations were vot five doilars per. Thither he hastened, paid “ in advance ’”’— being tousled and baggageless—and in an hour, excitement and all notwithstanding, was fast asleep. While back in his third floor rear, the nervous, white-faced. girl twisted and turned, longing for sleep and forgetfulness that would not come. Below, between kitchen and dining-room, romance bit deeply ihto the heart of Mrs. After a time, unable to withstand it longer, she tiptoed up to Tarton’s door and listened. La petite was sick, he had said. Bien, she was trying to sleep. If so, well and good. But, if not, it was of a certainty she would be in need of something—a cold compress for the eyes—a cup of hot milk. She heard the ancient bed-spring creak- ing, then a sigh. Calling out softly and re- assuringly, she knocked. In a moment the door was unlocked by a pallid, sweet-faced girl whose cheeks were gashed with black creases that might have been done with charcoal, but whose hair was burnished gold, whose eyes were pure, and whose slightly timid smile was all sufficient. So that when Tarton, eight hours later, having slumbered beyond all expectation, turned out confusedly, and having snatched a hurried bite, burst into his rooming-house, he was met in the hall by the landlady, who, with a smile, and her fat finger to her cheek, warned him that la soeur was still asleep, and to be quiet. Some time later she got up and dressed. Mrs. Contestable put a luncheon on a tray, and Tarton took it up, sitting watching her and saying almost nothing as she ate. When she had finished they looked at each other. He began lamely: 3 “You got rested—some, I hope?” “Yes,” she said. “I feel a different per- son. I must have behaved dreadfully last “No. Not dreadfully, by any means. But you could have been excused, if you had. It is certainly horrible to think of— what you saw and went through.” He leaned forward, his hand unconsciously clasping hers. ‘‘ I want to help you—more than I can tell,” he said earnestly. ‘“ But, of course, I know practically nothing. Could—-do you think you can explain—a little? You might begin by telling me who the man was, and why—”’ The girl looked up quickly. ‘“ He was Professor Fisher, the great archeologist—I rather thought you would recognize him, for, of course, you’ve seen him?” Tarton shivered a trifle. “Yes, I did fancy a resemblance. But, of course, it never occurred to me that it really was le. What happened between him and your—”’ “He isn’t truly my father,’ Zaida inter- rupted. ‘“ Only my stepfather.. My mother married him after I had grown up. You see, he isn’t really any relation. I’m rather surprised you didn’t recognize him, too— Heldstrom, the geologist. Surely you’ve heard of him? He’s famous.” ‘* Heldstrom!”’ repeated Tarton wonder- ingly. “ Of course I know him—but only as a name—as an author and a scientist. So you're Zaida Heldstro6m—his stepdaugh- ter!” He ‘““What a pretty name!” he exclaimed. ‘“ Where have you been all your life?” he demanded, suddenly laughing. ‘No one ever heard*of you, did they?” She smiled a little. ‘‘ Don’t talk like that —please,” she begged. ‘‘ You know we mustn't. I’ve got to tell you a lot—that isn’t pleasant. Please don’t interrupt.’’ ‘“T won’t,” he promised. “ But, first, be- fore you get started, let me give you some things I found in my pocket this morning. I imagine they’re yours. At any rate, they were scattered around on the bed down there—you left them when you got up, and, without thinking, I put them in my pocket. “First, here are these papers with the notes of the inscription. You had evidently been studying—half a dozen of ’em. It was certainly a bad one, but you had it all wrong, anyway. Your handkerchief—which I'll show you to let you know where it is, -com (| OOK O) looked at her thoughtfully. ) ae ‘J th Sk Paserul rf va, pit me en ee aw ane 0 () Worthy UB NN aie yK Powe A Pee ee DNS Le EMA TCR EAT Reg eoe Laer eOne CANNY Bee Seen EN j, Lae r fy