Argosy, Vol. 85, No. 3 — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

380 to Girton and found the latter suddenly white. “Was that the kid?” he gasped. ‘““ That’s the kid, and he’s hurt!” Gir- ton replied, leaping to the side of the house and the runway to the garage— stopping short then as Hemmett slid to his side. ‘‘ Look! Look!” He pointed with his left hand, fum- bling wildly for his pistol with the right. He had left it up-stairs that morning— and he ceased fumbling and collided with the house itself as Hemmett dashed past! For the boy was there in the arms of a lithe little Guanaman, who had paused misguidedly, to try thrusting a cloth into the child’s mouth. Wild with terror, Edward, Jr., was beating at him with both little pink fists, turning his curly head from side to side, kicking and again managing to scream for help. And now, in the second or so that fol- lowed the scream, his captor was turning to the father and looking straight into his eyes; and since all Guanama knew of Hemmett’s pistol-aim, since the automatic in Hemmett’s hand was_ descending swiftly to shooting position, he would drop the boy and seek to save his own life or—no, he had no intention of drop- ping the boy, after all! With a tiger bound he made for the side of the garage, and the boy was held high between his own body and Hemmett. And his heart must lie squarely be- tween the pink-socked legs he clutched! Edward Hemmett, turned to frozen steel, fired and closed his eyes! CHAPTER X. JONES WORKS ON. A CENTURY dragged along, and still Hemmett could not force his eyes to look! Once upon a time he would have wagered an even hundred dollars against a nickel on his chances of hitting a penny at that range; now, for two years at least, he had fired hardly a shot. And if he had missed the mark this time— THE ARGOSY. A new scream of fright opened his eyes. He drew breath with a gasp and dashed forward, and already Girton had the boy in his arms and was soothing him and asking him if he was hurt and feeling over the round little body. ““You—you didn’t touch him, thank God!” he quavered. ‘Are you sure? Are you sure? Steve, give him to me!” Hemmett mouthed frantically as he snatched the boy. “Sonny! Dad didn’t hit you? Does it hurt anywhere, sonny? Are you sure it doesn’t Neddy? Are you sure? Tell dad!” Another shriller scream was coming from the house—Carmen this time: Hem- mett gripped himself and held the boy a little tighter. Your Guanaman girl has hardly conquered, hysteria as yet, al- though Carmen had remarkable self- control for one of her blood; his own calm was very essential just now, and he even contrived to smile as his beautiful wife sped to his side. “It’s all right, little girl,” he said. “ Tt’s all right. The kid isn’t hurt.” ‘Give him to me! Give him to me!” cried the mother as she turned shudder- ingly from the sight just beyond. “ That man—that—oh!” And now the younger Edward Hem- mett was in her arms, and she sobbed over him, while Girton rose to his feet after a very brief, conclusive inspection of the mistaken individual who had turned abductor. “This was hi farewell appearance as a kidnaper,” he said grimly. ‘ He’s stone dead!” “And better that he had died by tor- ture!” Carmen cried surprisingly. ‘ For he sought to steal my baby, and—” “There, there!” her husband put in, himself decidedly whiter. ‘‘ Whatever it was, it is all over now, child. Take the boy in, and get out of this yourself, Carmen.” “And you—for killing him, what will they do to you?” “They won’t do much of anything to comicloool C©