Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 2, 1922 — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

528 “ Joy-ride. Tha’s all, boss. I t’ink, meb- be, I get me my girl, I tak-a her leetle ride. Then this mans, he’s a-chase me, so I keep goin’.” “Do you expect me to believe that your gir] would accompany you on an automobile ride at four o’clock in the morning?” “Sure. Lucia, she’s a go in an auto any time. She’s a-crazy for machine.” “What were you going to do with the car when you finished your ride?” “ Justa leave some place. On da street, mebbe.” Since the inception of the case the tele- phone had played so evil a part that the aversion to it which Willmer so consistently displayed had been communicated in a lesser degree to all the ethers. Every time it rang the sudden hush and uneasiness that followed was dramatic. As Nick answered Fenwick’s question the bell jangled furiously, and Corson jumped from his chair. Boyden half arose, and Fenwick wheeled about, facing the instru- ment, and then stood motionless. King stretched languidly, both hands deep in his trouser pockets, and yawned with affected boredom. The prisoner looked from one to another, bewildered, and then laughed. “ Ah, gee! Whassa matt’?” he demand- ed. ‘She’s no gonna hurt you!” “Go to the switchboard, Seth,” ordered Fenwick; and the little man silently slipped from the room. Charlie lifted the receiver to his ear, and Corson stood at his elbow as if he hoped to hear fragments of the caller’s conversation. ‘““Mr, Willmer’s residence, Bell speak- ing,” announced Fenwick. “This is Willmer,” answered the finan- cier. “ Come up to my den when you get time, will you?” “Tl be right up, sir.” He replaced the receiver on the hook. “Tt was Mr. Willmer,” he advised. “ He wants to see me. Where’s Nick?” “Damn it! He’s gone!” barked Corson, flying to the door, which he slammed vio- lently as he left the house. Charlie regarded King quizzically. “ Well?” inquired King. ‘““ Where’s Nick?” asked Fenwick quietly. Ts he still in the house?” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. The junior member of the triumvirate appeared to be disconcerted by the young wire chief’s manner. “ He left by the front entrance when you answered the telephone.” “ Didn’t you know enough to stop him?” “You forget that I am now Inspector Cerson’s deputy. I was merely awaiting orders from my chief.” Boyden reappeared and noted Nick’s disappearance. “‘Where’s that Italian feller?” he de- manded. “Mr, King permitted him to walk out while I was telephoning,” advised Fenwick. “Corson is out looking for him.” ‘“‘T’ll do some lookin’ myself,’”’ exclaimed Seth, making for the door. As it closed after him Fenwick again turned to King. “This won’t do at all,” he announced. “‘ Corson has real evidence against you, and can make things decidedly unpleasant if he cares to. What object had you in fur- thering his escape?” “T didn’t want to see the poor devil suffer for a mere lark,” protested King earnestly. “I believe his story about tak- ing the car for a joy-ride.”’ “Your position is obviously unfair,” pointed out Fenwick. ‘“ I am endeavoring to assist you and your associates, and have taken you into my confidence. For some inexplicable reason you are now obstructing Corson’s investigation and impeding my own efforts. The absurdity of your excuse for permitting Nick’s escape is patent. Are you going to force me to subscribe to Cor- son’s theory? Am I to believe that yours is one of the voices?” “J hope not, old chap,” responded King. “You know perfectly well that I had noth- ing to do with Pendleton Kirke’s death. I give you my word that I have respected. your confidence and haven’t breathed a word to a soul about Charlie Fenwick being on this case. But I can’t for the life of me understand why Corson should suspect or endeavor to incriminate a chance passer- by who makes off with my motor car.” “We will not argue, Mr. King,” said Fenwick, disappointed. ‘‘ You have ven- immediately tured the opinion on a number of occasions | that your partners knew more than they 3 A Gomichbooksrcom