The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 294: what you’re looking at

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

290 Allerton had slowed down at this point, on account of a bad bit of road, and suddenly the girl gave a little cry. “Oh, look there!” she exclaimed. “Tam sure that was a bird’s nest. It just fell out of that tree yonder. And I am certain there were young ones in it. Jf you don’t mind, won’t you stop a minute and see if they are Ifurt.” “ With pleasure.” In an instant the quivering Mercedes was at a standstill, and Allerton was out on the ground, striding toward the spot at which the finger of his fair passenger pointed. “ Marie,” she added, turning to the maid in the tonneau behind her, “won’t you please go, too, and see if you can find any of the young ones in the grass? No, no, if you please, not you, too,” as the chauffeur started to follow the French girl. “I should be afraid to stay in the machine by my- self.”’ “Tt’s all right,’ Allerton called to her a minute later. “ The birds are not harmed. I think I sce the mother yon- der. It is to be hoped she will learn to build her next nest in a more secure spot. What a tender heart you have, to be sure,” he added as he resumed his seat by her side. “Tt’s good of you not to laugh at my solicitude,” she replied simply. “I fear Pm a bit inconsistent, too. Do you know, I couldn't have brought myself to touch one of those fledglings. That's why I sent Marie.” The car whizzed on after that so rapidly that there was not much chance for talk, although Allerton could not bring himself to put on the disfiguring coggles. He was conscious of a sincere fecling of regret when Vinton was reached and his passenger gave him her hand in good-by. He realized that his service to her did not constitute an introduction. After he had driven on again, he even found himself feeling glad that he did not know her name. As it was, they could recard each other as knight and maiden in the good old-fashioned way. But when, Jater in the day, he came across a camera in the tonneau that did not belong to him, he realized that his lack of more definite knowledge of the owner made things a bit awkward. THE ARGOSY. “ How am I going to return it? ” he asked himself. Of course it would have been a sim- ple matter to take the thing to the home of Iisther Smith in Vinton and leave it with the message that it had been forgotten by one of her brides- maids. But Allerton could not possibly go with it himself that day, and he hated to miss the chance of seeing the owner by sending the chauffeur. “ Perhaps,” he tried to reason, “ if I develop the pictures on the roll, there will be some clue in one of them to give me her home address.” Deep in his heart of hearts, Allerton knew very well that this was merely the flimsiest pretext for trying to ob- tain-a print of the first woman in whom he had‘ever taken more than a passing interest. He had once dabbled a bit in photography; had a dark room at home completely equipped, and the up-shot of the matter was that the very next day beheld him shut up in blackness with his ruby lamp, eagerly embarked on his task. And what an exciting occupation it proved! It was only a six exposure film he discovered, and to his chagrin, as the various pictures revealed them- selves there was no trace in any of them of the camera’s owner. “And why should there be?” his common sense kept reminding him. “People usually use their kodaks to snap other people, not themselves.” The first view that came to light in the bath was that of a picturesque old homestead in the country somewhere, with not a soul in sight. Next there was a horse, then a dog, and after that two small children. 3ut now a scene began to shape itself that fairly sent the blood scurrying through the developer’s veins. He hastened the process all he could, seized a printing-frame, and rushed to one of the windows in the next room. lortunately, the sun was shining, and, placing the frame on the window sill, Allerton took out a cigar and began to smoke furiously the while he paced the room, striving to curb his impa- tience. At Jast he judged he had waited long enough, and, snatching up the printing- ECOMRRIC LOG (GO) awa