The Argosy, Volume XLIV — page 297: what you’re looking at

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

THE COIL OF CIRCUMSTANCE. I bundled myself into a cab, and promised the man double fare if he kept his horse on the dead run to my home. He did; he earned his money and got it. Stringer met me at the door—as loyal and true a friend as ever stood by a man in time of need!-—passing his arm about my shoulder and helping me to a couch. “If it were any one else, Tom Plympton,” he told me critically, “Id diagnose your case as the aftermath of an excessive jag, and prescribe accord- ingly; as it is—IJ’ll prescribe onc stiff dose of brandy, raw, and a breakfast, with coffee ad Ib. “You get yourself around a good meal and I'll talk to you. But mind, not before!” And to that he stuck. I was for the time furiously angry with him. For one thing, Nolan was absent, and it irri- tated me; had he, too, deserted me? Why was he not there to serve the meal, I demanded querulously ? But not a word would Stringer say, but busied himself among the kitchen things and turned out a most appetizing repast. Until the odor of the coffee and the cooking eggs came to. my nostrils I had not suspected that I was hungry. But then I recognized the fact, and forced myself to contentment until I had eaten. I foresaw that I should need all my strength. Finally, when he had succeeded in loading me up with food and stimulant and made me light a strong cigar, Stringer unloosed his tongue. There was little he had to tell, be- yond that which I knew, save that Nolan had gone as mysteriously as had Anita, without explanation or a warn- ing. Even while Stringer had been talk- ing to me he had left. Stringer ventured the opinion that the valet was following up some clue of his own in his own way, and didn’t care to be bothered with our advice or our interference. I was inclined to agree with this, the more so when I remem- _bered that before entering my service he had been connected with the detec- tive bureau. ~ My greatest fear, now, was that he might have gone straight to the police 293 with the case; and if there was one thing on earth that I desired more than the restoration to me of my wife, un- harmed, it was complete secrecy. Publicity, the sympathy of the news- paper readers with their morbid, in- sistent demand for details, the inquisi- tiveness and impertinent prying of the reporters, the dragging of my wite's name and my own into the Morrison case—I shrank from this, affrighted, as one well may in these moving days of “ murder extras.” I said as much. Stringer nodded in comprehension. “T have provided against all that,” he assured me. “ You needn’t worry.” “ But the body—the old Spaniard up- stairs,” I said, jerking my thumb over my shoulder in the general direction of the bedroom. “ How am I to explain that to the coroner? ” “You thundering idiot, what’s tne good of having a medical man for a friend? It’s the simplest matter in the world for me to give a death certificate to the Health Department. certifying that your friend What’s-his-name—by the way, you must find out for me—died of pulmonary tuberculosis while visit- ing you. “Trust me for that; Ill attend to all the details—get the burial permit, and everything.” “But the neighbors?” I persisted. “What’ll they think? About ninety- nine per cent of them saw us vester- day 29 : “Well, as to that I hadn’t thought, V’ll admit. Let me see.” He tipped back in his chair and sucked thoughtfully on his pipe. “Tm afraid,’ he admitted at last, “that you'll have to stand for a quiet burial from the house. If the fools want to talk, let °em. They can’t harm you. “T will arrange to have everything done as unostentatiously as possible. The undertaker—lI’ll get a man we can rely upon—can come here after dark to-night, with his assistants; and the funeral can start early in the morning. ‘So much publicity can’t be avoided. Now, as to that permit.” He drew a blank form from his pocket, and got his fountain pen ready. COMM ElOOO CO