Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 25, 1924 — page 77: what you’re looking at

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

‘THE DANCING DOLL. across the ballroom where a few half-tipsy couples were tangoing. Guy Dalby lurched along after them. ‘““T say there! Oh, I say!” Then he gave it up as he bumped first into one pair of dancers and then another. Finally he retired to a buffet for liquid consolation, cursing Valdez for his fickle- ness in turning from Margot to the Spanish dancer so abruptly. As they danced George kept whispering, “ Act as if you enjoyed it, Margot! Puta little life into it! And be ready to follow me when I give the word. I’ve got a car waiting at the gate!” Around the ballroom they circled, weav- ing in and out among the dancing couples and spectators. But at every doorway there was a com- pact knot of guests and servants. That way out was blocked! Then as they approached the window where George had entered he whispered, “ Now’s our chance! Dance on to the balcony. Dance as if you like it! Now!” As they whirled through the window, George leaped over the balcony, agile as a cat, and stood on the lawn with arms up- raised to receive her. With the light step of a professional dancer she poised on the railing for a sec- ond, then sprang into his arms. He caught her as if she had been a falling rosebud, and swept her in a tight embrace before he put her little feet on the ground. Then hand in hand they ran swiftly and noiselessly down the slope to the entrance of the estate. They could not be sure whether the shouts and calls that issued from the house were just part of the gayety or an alarm at their escape. They did not stop to find out. The driver saw them dash out of the gate and instantly threw in the clutch. The car was moving slowly when George thrust the girl inside and slammed the door after him as he followed. Instantly they were taking the long down grades and the first sharp turn at break- neck speed. In the darkness of the taxi, Margot clung to George’s arm, gasping: 67 “Oh, get me out of here! Take me away from this horrid place! JI never want to see Rio again!” But George was straining his ears for sounds of pursuit. He did not expect to get clear so easily. From the cliff above them, where the first pale light of dawn was touching the tree tops, came a sudden rattle of pistol shots and the faint echoes of yells and shrieks. George wondered if the chase was on. He knew that a steep trail cut across the road, a rugged footpath, a short cut, lead- ing from the villa, and he made sure that his revolver was handy in case Valdez’ friends tried to stop them there. They had to slacken their speed, for there was a hairpin curve just beyond the trail, and as the chauffeur put on the brakes, the headlight suddenly showed a mad figure leaping out of the bushes at the roadside and directly ahead of the car. The brakes screamed as they were jammed on hard and George’s revolver was out of his pocket. The car swerved to avoid collision. But at the same instant he let his gun fall, swung open the door and the breathless fugitive scrambled in beside him. “Tina! How did you get away?” he cried. The figure in tatters of scarlet and black, that had been a jaunty costume but was now mere shreds of fabrics, was panting like a hunted deer. But as the car took the curve and swung into a long drive toward the city, George heard with amazement that she was not sobbing but laughing crazily, as she was trying to catch her breath. ‘“‘Oh George!” she gasped. ‘‘ That was some party! I wouldn’t have missed that for the world! Did you ever see such a riot?” With one hand she steadied herself against the jouncing of the car and with the other she held her chest, trying to re- covef her breath. “Oh boy! What a aenpoce a scream!” ‘How did you make it? Through the window like we did?” asked George. Margot was gazing with distended eyes It was COMMICLOOOKS (E@)