Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 16, 1921 — page 143: what you’re looking at

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

134 palpable tension—as though tragedy, grim- visaged, was lurking near. At Lawton’s words there came a deepening of the ten- sion; the atmosphere of the room became pregnant with the promise of violence, im- minent and deadly. Richards’s face was set; his jaws were sheathed with muscles that stood out in rigid bunches; his eyes were glittering pin- points of implacable determination. And now, as Gray watched him. his lips moved. “T’m Jay Richards, Gray. For the last few weeks folks have been calling me ‘Sayle.’ You’ve guessed it,” he added grimly when he say Gray’s eyes widen. “For the past few weeks I’ve been known as Sayle, of the McGrail Detective Agency.” Gray squirmed and drew a long breath. He essayed a smile, which had a frozen. satiric humor concealed somewhere in it. “ You do not expect me to believe that?” he said coldly. “ That’s unimportant, Gray. Believe it or not. I’ve known for a long time that McGrail did a lot of underground work for you. In fact, I happened to have some- thing on McGrail that made him eager to take me into his confidence when I ques- tioned him about you. He told me some months ago that you had intimated to him that one day you would want him for some work connected with myself. So I deter- mined to be prepared. McGrail told me he’d always done your work. ‘“¢ So I made it worth McGrail’s while to get out of the detective game—in New York, at least. He got out. I took over the New York office. You know that Mc- Grail never employed any men—he did the work himself. My taking over the office was simple. “T put a girl there. She did nothing except sit there and wait for you to send in a call for McGrail. The call came. The girl called herself Barbara Alden. Her real name is Ella Richards—my daughter.” Both Lawton and Richards watched Gray intently as Richards revealed the identity of Barbara Alden, both being aware that Hamlin, in the role of John Hammond, had mentioned the name Alden to the financier. Gray’s sudden start betrayed his amaze- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ment at the revelation; and Lawton and Richards exchanged disappointed glances. They had thought Gray had learned of the deception; his emotion showed that he had not. “We sent a man here in reply to your request,” Richards went on. “A man named John Hammond. He discovered, by bluffing you a little, that you were con- cerned in preventing me from attending a certain directors’ meeting on the fifteenth— which, by the way, is to-morrow. It may interest you to know that John Hammond’s real name is Lane Hamlin.” Gray took the blow well. His face was expressionless, inscrutable. The shadow of a cold smile lurked around the corners of his mouth as he watched the other men. “Interesting, gentlemen—very interest- ing, Iam sure. But suppose I plead guilty to a concern for your whereabouts on the fifteenth of the month? What then? I as- sure you I do not feel at all conscience- stricken. It is all a part of the game, isn’t it? It has been done, and will be done again. I found that it would be to my ad- vantage to keep you from attending a meet- ing of certain directors. I tried—I failed. What are you going to do about it?” Gray’s defiant, almost contemptuous manner seemed to make Richards’s jaws clamp a little tighter. He drew from a pocket the pistol he had attempted to use on Hamlin. He trained its dark muzzle on Gray, and his stiffened wrist and steady blazing eyes told of the deadliness of his intentions. ““T’m going to do this about it, Gray,” he said, his voice vibrating with passion. “Last night your friend Morrell abducted my daughter. I’m going to give you one minute to tell where he took her!” There was no defiance or contempt in the startled glance that Gray now threw at Richards. In his manner—in the way his hands gripped the arms of his chair; in the way he stared from one to the other of his two visitors, was nothing but aston- ishment, naked and sincere. “Great Heaven, men!” he ejaculate: “You don’t mean to insinuate that I woul have anything to do with a crime like that? Richards, for Heaven’s sake don’t look at COnICLOO SH (C@