Argosy, Vol. 147, No. 1 — page 82: what you’re looking at

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

ee . eae No L ree y. He stuck me with some- es drug, I think. My head is whirl- z—and I feel a little upset. I'll be all dat in a minute, I think. How long have ‘IT just came—scarcely. five minutes v at time is it now?” looked at her wrist watch set with t i Wh “Phank God! I have only been ‘out’ Bow ww minutes, then! There’s still a lot of 4 » 4 He leaned back with a sigh. She brought n a pillow and placed it under his head. Garry, and then shook “Tsn’t life extraordi- ary “JT don’t know any one j least prefer to see here than you—and t—you’ve probably saved me— and ot] ers—as well as yourself by coming just ‘I don’t understand exactly,” ae —— ? - 2k > roe aks,” said said 4 No,” he said, “ you couldn’t possibly. n going to tell you!” He drew a long breath and steeled him- “Da Costa has been murdered,” he said. Murdered?” she repeated. She had n into a low chair near the bed. She ¢ ‘i « Os id =a forward, now, her hands clenched he arms of the chair, and she went to the lips. Her dark eyes stared at him in terror. ‘“ My God!” she sered hoarsely. “ My God!” abbed by some one — identity un- » a little retiring room at the of Clubs to-night!” went on Garry. jer to save all sorts of scandal, I th » proprietor —— Nat Silvers — to “h out the murderer before he p lice. By some lucky chance, simself had arranged that the sration at the café should last ‘cht. and that no one should Wh hid before daylight—so ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “ Came here with young Moffat Fielding to look for evidence. We found some let- ters.” “‘ Whose letters?” she asked in a whisper. “ Katherine Kendall’s.” “ Oh!’ There was relief as well as com- prehension in the sound. “JT wanted to destroy them. Fielding didn’t! He struck me with a hypodermic needle, I think, acd then—tied me up here while he went back with the letters. They must never be made public. They seem to incriminate Katherine — and you know— we all know—it would be impossible for her to kill any one.” The woman opposite him lay back, look- ing very tired. Her dark lashes hid her eyes. “She has been madly infatuated with him,” she said, “ and jealous of me. So jealous that I have had to come—like this —secretly-—at night—to see him at ali. One never knows what a woman will do— under certain circumstances. We—we have no sense of honor, you know—no scruples no morals or ethics, I am afraid. The worst and the best of us! We are all alike, really! Only some are braver than others. All of us— we have only feeling — emo- tions.” Garry sat up and stared at her. “Do you mean you think it might have been Katherine?” he asked. “ Why not—if he goaded her sufficient- ly. He knew how to handle women. It might have been Katherine. It might even have been I. “ And there never lived a woman more perfectly poised, you must admit — more perfectly mistress of herself!” she added. “Yet there have been moments when I could have wrung his neck in my two hands. He had the faculty of arousing the worst in us—the most violent—elemental things. You see, my dear Garry, your con- ception of love is the conventional, civil- ized conception; but women are not civil- think! Men think! And Da Costa had a a * ba Bee) Li) ' Ps comicbooks.com