Argosy, Vol. 147, No. 1 — page 77: what you’re looking at

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

THE DANCE asked curiously. Silvers?” asked ~ Alone?” he “Yes. Where's noncommittally- j ne. Talking to 2 friend of his inside. rl tell him you're here.” “to wait upstairs,” And he ran up to the little French draw- -room, and strode up and down the land- mg ing there, impatiently as he waited, for ee door was locked. Silvers, in the absence of the other two men, had observed 2 decided unwillingness S himself to remain alone in the room with the stiffening corpse He bethought himself of his old friend Bartlett alone at his table in the supper room, and decided to go down and: chat with him to pass the time. Leaving Charlie to watch for the re- turn of Garry and Fielding, with instruc- tions to summon him again when he was wanted, he crossed the room to Bartlett’s table. Bartlett looked up as he ap- proached, and mustered what strength he had left to smile a greeting. “Hello! You look kind of pale! Any- thing wrong?” asked Silvers, observing at once—in spite of his own preoccupation— the other man’s ashen face. Field- Fielding. “Qh, no. Just a little tired, that’s all, E. answered Bartlett. “It’s pretty close in here!” “ Anything I can get you?” asked Sil- vers solicitously. s No, thanks,” answered Bartlett, “ noth- ing! He moved the napkin cautiously, making sure that the telltale blood stain was well hidden. In spite of his long friendship with Silvers, he did not know how far Silvers was to be trusted. He had found it a pretty good policy, in his later years, not to trust any one. And he preferred to go on playing a lone hand now—as long as he could. Silvers sensed his unwillingness to con- tinue the subject of his physical condition, and tactfully dropped it, turning to the waiter to order sharply: “Here! More champagne!” Bartlett chewed upon his cigar and wait- ed. He was wondering what had brought Silvers back—wondering if the police had come—if any one was suspected of the 5 ai Bs cur wy eo me vos » a selves in his mind and w “Tt's very imteresing : ere,” he actually said. They augh : and chatter as in the world!” His eyes—half Silvers, poor. forward grimly, © W “ Dead?” ra Bartlett. | =o the effect of his “What's that you say?” asked Bar slowly. He was aware of the Bee beating of his heart—and he ¥ the blood was coming faster. + “My dancer — Da Costa <= eo killed,” whispered Silvers ce tious haven't let them know, of | nd = want a panic. Haven’t even call ee police yet.” | Be « Ah!” breathed Bartlett, in: was impossible to hold beck 5 | tion. “ Eh?” asked Silvers. Se “Tsn’t it dangerous to © sa Bartlett. ‘“‘ Won’t you have to al them for it?” “Tye got some pull,” said Silve sides, I've got a kind of private « working on the case quietly. We fore dawn. You see, whoever dit nas it this house still. The doors } locked since midnight!” = ‘Have you any clews?” aaa The waiter poured the champagn 2; | lett wet his lips with it. a “ No, that’s the worst of ic clews like you usually get in mur But we got a couple of fa picion.” “ Girls?” repeated apres “Yes. We think a bic was the kind of a guy to be m . ced u ben 8. , you know. baa rat th “ Cherchez la omnes “Comicbooks. com t< a