Argosy, Vol. 85, No. 3 — page 101: what you’re looking at

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

FACING A CRISIS. “I don’t see how that can be,” she broke in, with sudden indignation. “I have been told that it had been allowed to run down—even worse than in the original John Landon’s time — and that Mr. Brooke has worked hard on it for ten years to bring it to its present satis- factory condition. That should give him a right to the farm independently of any will.” . “My dear girl—” She flashed a look at him that caused him to change his form of address and seemed to jolt his watery eyes closer to- gether. -“ Miss Severly, I mean. There can be no right except under the law. I will show you—or tell you—where that will is, so that John Landon—and of course your sister—will get this farm. All I ask is a thousand dollars cash. The farm is valued at ten thousand. A thousand for my services is too little, but I want to see the rightful heir get his own. Then there is another consideration. I am here to have John Landon arrested and -taken back to Philadelphia. If I make this ar- rangement with him, through you, why, I sha’n’t be able to find him. You un- derstand?” He gave her a sly wink that made her fingers itch to bestow a ringing slap on his pasty face. All she did, however, was to take up the school bell from her desk. ““T see. School is going to take up again,” he squeaked, his smirk. widening. “ Well, I’ll come back at five o’clock for my answer, and I would advise you to be here then, if you want to keep your sister’s husband out of jail. As for the will, I don’t mind telling you that it isn’t a thousand miles from the old farmhouse over there. Good-by for the present. I wish I could come to school to you. Only I’m afraid I’d be making love to my teacher.”’ Marcus Tolman made a quick exit. . Perhaps it was well for him that he did. There was a heavy ebony ruler on Letha Severly’s desk, and she dropped 443 the bell to reach for it just as the check suit followed the aggressive yellow shoes out of the door. The girl shrugged her shoulders and laughed as the door closed. Nevertheless, two tears of angry annoyance appeared like dewdrops on her cheeks. She brushed them away quickly, but she could not brush away the feeling of hu- miliation caused by the interview that had been forced upon her. The coarse- ness of Mr. Tolman had seemed to exhale from his person, so that Letha felt actually sticky with it. She glanced up at the clock. It was time to call the children-in. But she did not take up the bell again just then. In- stead, she locked the door and opened one belonging to a little room at the back of her desk which had been an extra class-room at one time, when the attendance was much larger, and which no one entered but herself. ‘Come out, John,” she called, in a low tone. The person who stepped out was none other than John Landon, known to Har- den Brooke as Claude Miller. He wore the old coat and trousers in which he had dropped from the hay-loft the afternoon before. But he had on one of -Harden’s clean gray flannel shirts, and in his hand was the soft hat which Har- den had carried up to his room at five o’clock in the morning. — ‘““Has he gone?” was his anxious ques- tion. “Yes, you can see him through the window going down the road to the vil- lage. I wish I could have got you other things besides the shirt and hat. But I couldn’t. I wrapped those up in paper, and even then I felt as if I were not acting quite square with Marion.” ‘You always act square, Letha,” he declared earnestly. ‘‘ Does Tolman know I am still about here?” ‘“‘1’m afraid he does.”’ ‘What shall I do? I don’t want to be lugged back to Philadelphia. They will find me guilty if ever they put me CO DOOK AMUC C©