The Argosy, Vol. XXIV, No. 1 — page 148: what you’re looking at

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

148 THE GENERAL’S EMISSARY. ‘“ Hold there!” I cried, as I reined up and recognized Captain Wilson. ‘“Ha! Is that you, Captain Heywood ?’’ he yelled back. ‘‘ Take that.’’ His pistol flashed and the ball grazed my left ear. But I think I could have made at him had it gone through my heart. ‘You wretch!’ I cried, snapping my pistol at him, but it would not go off. .I wason foot in an instant (fora gentleman will never take an undue advantage of his adversary) and compelled him to defend himself with his sword. After a pass or two I found that he was no swordsman, and before he could fly I pierced him through the left shoulder. He uttered a piteous cry and fell backward. ‘‘ Where is my paper, you miserable thief?’’ I glared at him. “Oh! help. I’m dying,’’ he pleaded. ‘“ Where is my paper ?’’ I demanded. “Oh! Oh! I’m going to die. Have mercy on me. Help me over to that house where I can be more comfortable and I will tell you.”’ My anger relaxed somewhat at the sight of this over polite young gentle- man groveling in the soft mud, possibly in the pangs of death. I dragged him to the house referred to and from which a man had appeared as our brawl ended. We soon had Wilson lying on the floor and set to work stanching the blood. ‘’ Now, sir, my paper!’’ I demanded, my anger returning at the sight of him tolerably comfortable. , ‘I hate to give it up,’’ he said with a sullen gleam. ‘‘I would have made a good thing out of the information. The captain of the Phenix _ “Come! Come !’’ I interrupted loudly. ‘‘I have no time to waste, you poor, despicable, spying hypocrite. Out with it !”’ My tone was threatening, and he replied: “‘ In my inside pocket. . If I could use my arm I would get it.’’ fas I fumbled in his pocket, but found nothing except a blank letter sheet folded. “Vou scoundrel!’’ I cried. ‘‘ Will you lie to my face when I have it in my power to consign you to the place where you belong! You know that letter is not there.’’ ‘“Not there !’’ he ited half rising. ‘There was in his face, a look of genuine surprise. ‘‘’Then I don’t know where it is,’’ and he sank back as if exhausted and closed his eyes. I was truly in a quandary. I searched his pockets and his boots, but with no success. My head fairly reeled with the multitude of thoughts and sug- gestions that crowded my brain. Could it be possible after all that I had been deceived by fair eyes and that Miss Everard was the true thief? In that case the man before me had suddenly become a lunatic. Or possibly he and Miss Everard were confed- erates. But could the possessor of such clear, brown eyes be guilty of such an act? ‘The alternative now left me was to find either her or her father and learn what they knew, 3 I ordered the owner of the house to keep a close watch on Wilson until I Eomicbook