Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 2 — page 118: what you’re looking at

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

300 down in a great pool of blood, lay the body of Nathan Swain. CHAPTER II. THE LESSER OF TWO EVILS. HE minister staggered back, catching at the side of the doorway for sup- port, and brushing one hand across his eyes. Something on the hall floor grated under his heel and he stared down at it stupidly. A diamond ring lay on the braid- ed rug at his feet. He turned and stumbled down the hall wrenching open the kitchen door. “ Joel!” he called wildly. “ Joel!” He could see the little man still standing by the well. © ‘“T ain’t comin’ in, I told you.” “ Help, Joel—it’s murder!”’ He turned back, and as he did so, he heard quick steps in the hall above. Look- ing up he saw his wife and Hetty Ives clinging together. Their pale faces peered down at him over the bannister in a frenzy of fear. “Go back!” he commanded hoarsely. “ Go back, both of you!” ** What is it, Arthur?” his wife cried. ‘Nathan Swain—”’ But his voice failed him. He went on toward the study door. Joel Benton was beside him now, and the two men entered the room together. A light breeze stirred the scattered rose-petals on the floor and swayed inward the long white muslin curtains. Somewhere outside in the silence a thrush was beginning its evening song. The minister knelt’ down by the body. The blood which had drenched the hearth- stone and the carpet, flowed from a gash in the side of the neck, and as he bent closer to examine the wound, he recoiled from its depth. The head had been partly severed. “Go for the doctor, Joel!” he gasped. But it’s too late—there’s nothing to be done—” He glanced up. Joel Benton was stand- ing rigid at his shoulder peering down at the body of the dead man. A grim smile ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. twisted his lips and a look of triumph shone in his eyes. ‘Nathan Swain’s renderin’ account of all his wickedness!”’ he whispered. Then he turned and shuffled out of the room. It seemed only a moment before the ' doctor came running past the window in his shirt-sleeves. At his heels was the boy who drove for him and, following them at a little distance, came two other men. They crowded in through the hall doorway, while subdued questions, all unanswered, Jeaped from lip to lip. “ Where is he?” “ What happened?” ‘ Look out there where you re steppin’!”” “Stand back and give doc room! ”’ During the time he had been left alone in the study, the minister had gathered up the scattered pieces of jewelry from the carpet. Slow, white and shaking, he made his way-into the hall. On the stairs he saw his wife and Hetty Ives still clinging to each other. The little dressmaker was sobbing hysterically. “To think of me sitting up there alone . — —while it was happening—and never hear- ing a sound! I was pulling the basting- threads out of the back breadth—” ‘“ Where is Flora?” Mrs. Grant whis- ‘‘ She’s gone.” “Goner” — ‘And don’t tell any one yet of her hav- ing been here.” “Arthur! You don’t believe—” “Of course not! If you could see what was done!’’ He closed his eyes, shuddering. ‘But I must find her. If she is not at the house, I must talk with her mother—I must get her to tell me all she can.” Hetty Ives was staring down at him. ‘But Mrs. Winslow ain’t home.” ‘“ Where is she?”’ “TI see her come out of their door not . fifteen minutes ago. She was headin’ this way. She must have been goin’ right by here when it happened!”’. : The possibilities of what she said seemed suddenly to strike her and. she checked the words upen her tongue. ‘““ But Flora may be there,’ Mr. Grant insisted, ‘““I must find her and talk: with ECOMNIC HOG Ss (CO ww