Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 1, 1922 — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

THE FUR CLOAK. ‘Somebody lied to you, didn’t they?” Myra laughed, and wrenched again. “Tl say they did! I’ll—listen, Miss Ramsey. Supposing there was a chance of your getting out of this, would you call off the show for about fifteen minutes?” “‘ How good is the chance?” “It’s elegant!” the leader replied with deep feeling. ‘I dunno how it ‘ll be worked yet, but us and you’s going to part company between now and morning—you take that from me! Ji run risks, but [’ll run no risk o’ bumping anybody off lke this! Will y’ do that?” 6 U-m—yves! ” “ Vou’ll lay off all the rough stuff, ab- solutely?”’ 64 Yes.” “Let her go, Joe!” the leader snapped. ‘““‘Where’s there a telephone?” “For what?” the chauffeur asked, re- leasing Myra. “TI gotter talk t’ him quick!” the dark man replied with surpassing bitterness. ‘“‘ There’s things I want to say and—where’s the nearest phone?”’ “ Back the car around an’ go t’ the ave- nue and then south around ten or twelve blocks. There’s an all-night drug store there.”’ “* And leave it outside with every bull in the world looking for*that license number by this time!” muttered the leader; and then, his eye meeting Myra’s very bright and determined ones, be shrugged. “It’s worth taking the chance at that,”’ he stated, and snatched up his cap. The outer door slammed behind him and was locked again. Outside they beard the, motor starting and then the whir of gears as the car backed about; and this turned to the whine of higher gears—and died out in the distance. Miss Carson straightened her rather ruf- fled toilet and looked about meditatively. She had accomplished something through her latest fit of unpleasantness. Just what? . The implanting of fear into the tremendous bosom of Joseph, anyway. He was looking at her now much as a timid keeper might regard an uncertain lioness. ‘“‘ Woncher—woncher sit down, kid?” he asked with an ingratiating smile. 853 “I don’t care to sit down.” “ Gwan—sit down!”’ Joseph urged, quite pathetically, obvieusly possessed of the idea that she would be a trifle less dangerous sitting. “ Sit down and—have a sandwich! Go ahead; have a coupla sandwiches!” en treated Joseph as her eye brightened prom- isingly. And ia his own eye a light of forced but willing renunciation kindled. “‘ Sure—or the level! I don’t want none!” said he, waving a hand in their direction. ‘* Have ’em all!” CHAPTER VIL BEING DISPOSED OF. OSEPH himself, smiling apologetically, his manner suggesting the certainty that she would not misconstrae the move, drew his own Chair neanr and perched on the edge. “ Gwan, kid! Have a—” “1 don't care for any more, thanks.”’ “Weli—aH right,” said joseph, and sighed lightly. ‘‘ We'll just sit here’n talk, then.”’ “I don’t know that I care to talk to you, either.” She faced him thoughtfully and Joseph grew a trifle more tense. ‘All right,” said he. “Only don’t get t’ frettin’, kid. They ain’t nothin’ to fret about. He’ll have you all fixed up fine soon as he comes back.” ‘Qh, I’m not fretting, I assure you,” said Myra. Followed a curious little lull m a very curious evening. As a matter of actual fact, there seemed no immediate cause for worry—which, éverything considered, was possibly the most curious part of it all. Alone with two distinctly rough characters, there was apparently no danger. Them- selves violent, they understood a violent person lke herself. What time was it? It should have been nearly morning! Miss Carson glanced at her watch and discovered that midnight was barely five minutes in the past. The mighty stillmess of this isolated region, though, suggested rather the hour before dawn; she devoted herself for a Httle to comicloool C©