The Argosy for May — page 93: what you’re looking at

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

280) THE best haste possible and find the way to freedom before any further interference came. Hands outstretched, he started for- ward hastily. In a fairly definite way, he knew. the direction in which his at- tendant had gone; he followed it as swiftly as possible, and— Yes, here was a wall. some sort of woodwork and—ah! here was a ‘door. He found the knob and turned it, and walked—into a closet! He backed out quickly and searched on, and in a_very few seconds he had found another door, and was seeking the knob. An extremely queer sense of greater space impressed him as -he passed through. Inquisitive fingers, reaching and waving through the air, met a ban- ister railing, and he knew that he was in a corridor, and probably at the edge of the stair-well. He retreated to the wall opposite, and felt his way along cautiously again. A full dozen feet of progress—and he had found another door. He reached to the left again, and learned that he was at the turning-point of the banisters. That, it seemed, must mean the head of the stairs. Logically, they should lead to the main corridor below. He dared not try them. He’d make a trip through this doorway to the right, if it happened to be unlocked, and see what was con- cealed. Perhaps another, and more acclimated, blind man was there who could tell him the way out. Perhaps—excited hope surged through him as he tried the fastening. Exulta- tion succeeded suddenly as the door gave way before his hand and opened -with- out a sound. Little idea as he had of his where- abouts, he was at least going somewhere, and the path might lead to the outer world and— Out of the limitless blackness there came a sound of some one stirring. There was a muffled exclamation; the sound, then, of a sudden fall, as if some one had thrown himself pies upon the carpeted floor. And then a strange voice rose, deep, but querulous, in reverent and respect- ful tones, with: Here, too, was | ARGOSY. “It is indeed the king! It is indeed the wise one! Bow low, ye people! All hail, King Solomon! ”’ CHAPTER VI. IN REGARD TO \CLUES. THE day-clerk, as Richard Hoffman observed without much interest, stared a little as the two bell-boys hurried to the elevators with the hand-baggage. Furthermore, the day-clerk observed: “Too bad, sir, that you were forced to return so soon. I’m very sorry, sir! ”’ “Well, you needn’t cry about it, Dick- son!’’ Mr. Richard Hoffman comment- ed, as he hurried by with his wife. “These things are bound to happen, you know, one time and another.” “Yes, sir. Certainly, sir. It’s al- ways well to be prepared for them, as it were, and to try to take them philo- sophically, Mr. Hoffman,” the day-clerk murmured, as the elevator-gate closed for its trip to Suite 501. It was in Suite 501, some seven or eight minutes later, that the peculiar tone worked into the elder Hoffman’s mind and set him wondering. ‘What in blazes was the matter with Dickson, Madge? ” he inquired thought- fully. C What, dear?” “He talked as if I'd just lost a leg or something, instead of merely being called back unexpectedly by business,”’ Richard went on. His wife laughed. “ Probably Dickson knew how much you'd been counting on a winter vaca- tion,’’ she said. “But still—’” He paused. “I must be getting imaginative!” Hoffman fin- ished, with a laugh. ‘I guess the long face made an impression on Dickson. Blast it! I didn’t want to come back!” “Never mind.” The maid had bus- tled in, and fluffy things and things that rustled and other things that swished and crackled were being laid out from the trunks and the grips—and, for the time, Richard Hoffman was a quantity ignored. He intruded again V shortly with: ‘“T wonder how poor old Martin’s getting on down-town?” MICLOOOLK (C©)