The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 279: what you’re looking at

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

THE SIDETRACKING OF BAD LUChk. the pavement in the direction of the porter’s lodge—it was so still in the Inn at that hour. There came faintly to me the sound of the clang of the gate: the porter had let him out. 21d Then I shut the door, and was alone. Alone in the chamber:, with my myste- rious visitor sleeping on the bed. Alone, too, with amv horrible fears. What was to be the outcome of this mysterious dilemina ? (To be continued.) The Sidetracking of Bad Luck. BY JULIA TRUITT BISHOP. A trip to the station in a new turnout, and the masked perils that lined the way. TR lamp-chimney broke with a sharp crack. * Bless us and save us!” exclaimed Mrs. Pomeroy, rather in dismay than in supplication. “ That’s the third day the chimney to that lamp has done that very identical thing—an’ at four in the afternoon! If that don’t mean bad luck, then I miss my guess. It stan’s to reason it must mean something.” Mrs. Pomeroy cleared away the wreck and sat down to her sewing again, a frown on her brow; but immediately she arose and looked out at the door. “* Robert,” she called to a young man who was backing a restive horse into the shafts of a new buggy, “’f I was you I wouldn’t go this evenin’.” “ Why not?” asked Robert easily, go- ing on with his work. “ Hasy, there, Sultan—easy, now! Come on back— you've got to do it, so you might as well be at it. What’s the matter about go- ing, mother? ” “'The’s goin’ to be bad luck o’ some kind,” said Mrs. Pomeroy, shading her eyes with her hand. “ Three days hand- runnin’ the lamp’s been settin’ on the chimney-piece just as peaceful as it could be, an’ all at once the chimney’s broke with a snap that ’ud nigh about skeer a body to death—an’ jest about the same time o’ day, every time. S’pose you stay at home, Robert. ‘Tain’t right to fly into the face o’ Providence.” “ Don’t blame Providence, mother— blame the man that sells you the lamp- chimneys,” said Robert, buckling the harness deftly. “ You don’t suppose I’d miss the chance of driving to the train on Saturday evening when | have a new horse and buggy rf ” “ You alwavs was hard-headed, Rob- ert,” fretted Mrs. Pomeroy. ‘“ That horse ain’t to be trusted, I know that. Look at his ears this minute, stuck for- rerd like they was on sticks, lookin’ for somethin’ to skeer at. If vou’re boun’ to go, Robert. I'm comin’, too. You can jest wait—it won't take me a min- ute to put on another skirt and smooth my hair a little.” And a few moments later Mrs. Pome- roy issued forth in her best bonnet and skirt, with a silk mantilla that had been part of her wedding outfit conceal- ing the fact that she did not have on her best waist. “The best one’s lined an’ stiff in the neck,” she explained, “ an’ I can’t bear to be stiff-necked. Hold on to that crit- ter’s head, Robert. Pl climb in by my- self—all I want is for you to hold on to him. There, now if he starts to run I shall rab the lines, an’ vou may as well make up vour mind to that.” And Robert looked proudly over the new horse and buggy as Sultan threw up his head and started off with a jerk that made Mrs. Pomeroy feel of her neck anxiously with both hands. As the three or four miles melted away, and as Mrs. Pomeroy saw people glancing admiringly at Robert’s new turnout, she began to feel easier in her mind, and bv the time Sultan turned into the white road that led up to the pretty little country station, she was prepared to be envied by all beholders. There was not a girl in the country who would not have been glad to be ECOMRRIC LOG (GO) awa