Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 2 — page 57: what you’re looking at

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

FIXED BY GEORGE. “Tt is so!” George cried, eagerly. “ And if two people are all you want—” “ Bosh! Let him come, then!”’ said Miss Woodbury, and shrugged her shoulders and smiled again. “I can handle him. I’ve never yet met the man I couldn’t handle, and if, by any chance, you should be tell- ing the truth about this Poole person—”’ She rose slowly, tilting an ear toward the kitchen, whence came a renewed sizzling. ‘“You’ve finished talking, George? Be- cause it doesn’t lead anywhere at all, you know—it’s bound to go around and around in a circle, and when you’ve quite finished you'll still be staying with me. Will you excuse me for a moment? Dinner’s boil- ing over, I think.” Beautiful, exquisite in motion, incredible to the last degree, she dropped her cigarette into the little tray and inclined her head coquettishly at George for a moment. Then, humming lightly ard contentedly and with- out one backward glance, she moved to the swinging door of the kitchen and passed it, and they heard the hum change to a lilt- ing song and heard the scrape of a spoon on a copper pot! George Dare’s stunned eyes remained upon the door for many seconds. She, a woman of that kind in a gown that must have cost several hundred dollars—she, one of those field lilies who rarely raise a finger in the direction of menial work——was here without servants, and cooking her own din- ner. Even that trick was almost as confusing as the lady herself; he fumbled for an adequate answer, and gave up the effort almost immediately; he turned his glazing eyes upon Margery Poole. She was standing in the same spot, trembling, bewildered, frightened out of her very senses. Her lips quivered; her hands stretched piteously toward the person who was helping with her family affairs. ‘George! Oh, George!” she breathed. ‘ She’s an—unusual character, isn’t she?” George asked thickly. “And you brought me to her_house! You!” “Margery, you can’t honestly believe that I ever—” George began. “TI don’t know! I don’t know! I don’t 207. know!” Mrs. Poole cried, softly and wild- ly, and suddenly rushed to George’s side. _“ Maybe it’s just the—the crazy way things happen when you touch them, George, but —I don’t know! Only, take me away, George! Take me away from here!” ‘This way? When she knows who you are and means to use her knowledge? A woman like that, Margery, is capable of most anything.” “T don’t care if she knows my history all the way back to Adam!” Margery cried, hysterically. “‘ We can find a way out of that later, only—take me away be- fore Arthur can find us here!” ‘* Well, of course, if you want to make a break for it while she’s in there, I’m game,” George said, and rose quickly. ‘‘ She’s got your cards, but Ill find an explanation for that, if it’s necessary, even if I have to wreck myself and lie my soul into per- dition.” . ‘““ And, George—” “Well, don’t stop to talk about it,” George said hastily and grimly. ‘ You’ve got more wits than I have, just now, Mar- gery; the break’s the proper thing.” In her present terror, she seemed almost incapable of motion. He took her arm and hurried her to the door. | “T wasn’t going to—to talk about that, George,” Mrs. Poole murmured, and smiled in a faint, scared, rather insane way. “ This is rather important, I think. I want you tagpromise me, George, that once we’re out of here, once you’ve put me on a train or something, you'll never try to help me again.. I thought Geraldine was silly, only last week, but she wasn’t. She seemed so angry because you’d tried to fix something for a friend of yours, and it—” “This is no time to discuss that sort of rot!” George said roughly, and his grip on her arm tightened until it was almost brutal! But they were past the entrance now, and Miss Woodbury, singing in her kitchen, had not heard and had not followed. They were down the steps and out in the pour- ing rain, and their feet sank oozily into mud. Yet for cooling purposes, the mud was on the wrong end of George Dare! His COPMIELOO KS Gon