The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 236: what you’re looking at

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

222 thing to a drink. I can stand a little shower, too. But deliver me from get- ting into the tank. Why, I wouldn’t get in if it were filled with champagne.” ‘“ There’s no chance of that,” laughed Tillinghast. At the same time his dripping face drew into a calculating expression, he paused a moment, then reached out through the thick steam, and before Keller knew what was going on, grasped the rubber-band to which the diamond ring was attached and jerked it over Keller's hand, quickly slipping it on his own wrist. “Here! What the mischief! Till, give me that!” “Tl give it to the owner,” answered Tillinghast firmly. “Why on earth did you take that ring from Miss Hart- worth? ” “What do you know about it?” de- manded Keller, reaching over and fe- verishly grappling with Tillinghast’s in- distinct arms in an effort to locate the band. “T know that you cleverly got it from her last Saturday when you were riding in a taxi with her on Fifth Ave- nue. Don’t you realize she’s all wrought up over it and is offering a re- ward of two hundted and fifty through Sterling, for its return—dead or alive?” “The deuce you say!” exclaimed Keller. Then a sullen tone replaced his excited exclamation and he demand- ed: ‘ Well, what business 1s it of yours, anyway?” “Only this, Kell,” and Tillinghast gripped the arms of the younger man; ‘“you’ve got to cut out these little prac- tical jokes of yours. Nobody's ever had the nerve to say a word to you about it before. Your pride ought to come to your rescue. You've got to understand that it’s not funny to go around picking up other people’s things and then returning them mysteriously after you've satisfied your abnormal craving for excitement, or whatever it is that prompts you to this foolishness.”’ “What’s the matter with you, Til- THE ARGOSY. linghast?”’ cried the other in an alarmed tone. “I never took a thing. You're almost calling me a thief. Do be a bit careful!” His fingers were nervously playing about, in an effort to break Tillinghast’s hold. “It’s for your own good, Kell. The fellows at the club think it’s funny be- cause you're young and come from such a good family; because they like you, and all that, but one of these days they'll realize their mistake—and yours.” ‘Don’t be an ass!” cried Keller. “Give me that ring. If you don’t I'll get an attendant here in a second and explain the whole thing and you'll find yourself in a pretty pickle. If this is a practical joke, all right; I can stand any kind of a joke, even when the hu- mor becomes so subtle that it disap- pears. Give me that ring! ” “Hold on to yourself, Kell,” urged Tillinghast, realizing that the effect of rum omelets and claret lemonade gave the young fellow a spirit of bravado that went ridiculously with his puny frame and retiring manner. “If you called an attendant I’d have to explain a thing or so, too. ‘This ring 1s unique, and it exactly answers the description of the one for which Miss Hartworth is advertising. The thing could be proved against you in a minute, and then how would you feel?” “You're wrong this time, and I'll prove it. I say, let go of me or I'll call somebody, and we'll settle this thing.” ‘You mean if I do let go of you, you'll call one. No, Kell, for your own good I won’t do that.” “You’d get in trouble if you did. You cad! Can’t you be decent? ”’ A sudden flush of anger controlled Tillinghast. Subconsciously he tight- ened his grip on the slippery young fellow and twisted his wrist, causing a sharp cry of pain. “Now, we're going to get to the bottom of this thing,” declared Tilling- hast. “I don’t like to talk to you in oO cComicbooks CO