Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 7, 1922 — page 134: what you’re looking at

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

280 He stopped abruptly, gazing open- mouthed and horror-stricken at the pros- trate Richard. “Get a doctor—don’t stand gaping there!” said Beatrice fiercely. ‘“‘ A doctor, quick!” “Bring him back with you,” said Ste- phen, ‘‘ and warn the police!” The man-servant gasped, and vanished. Stephen, still half dazed himself, saw the revolver lying on the floor, and kicked it aside. He glanced toward the window, the snapped wooden upright between the open casements brought a gleam of intelligence to him; he hurried to the window and looked down. The sight that met him held Stephen spellbound for a moment. Then he shiv- ered, and, glancing back at his sister, drew the curtain across the window. Beatrice was oblivious to anything but Richard. “Stephen,” she said, “he’s coming round! He’s—” Richard’s eyes were open. He looked up blindly. Beatrice’s face, wet with tears, was close above his own. She held his head against her breast. “ Betty,” he said feebly, and then with an effort: “It didn’t hit you—didn’t get you—” “No,” she said huskily. Dickie.” “ That’s all right,” murmured Richard, with a deep sigh. His eyes closed again. Then, after a moment’s pause: ‘“ Stephen! ’S you, isn’t it?” “Yes. Don’t talk, old chap.” ‘“ Don’t—be a fool,” murmured Richard. His eyes opened again and roved round the “Lie quiet, room. ‘‘ Where’s Piers?” ‘* Dead!”’ “Ah! Sure of that?” “ Just you rest quiet, old son,” said Ste- phen gently. “ Youre hurt a bit, but we’re looking after you. Nothing serious; soon be all right. Doctor’s coming along.” Richard paid no attention to him. His eyes were looking dreamily up into Bea- trice’s face. He appeared to reflect. “Stephen! Did you say—something about police?”’ “ They’re on the way.” ‘When they come,” murmured Richard, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ‘don’t tell ’°em any more—than they ask you. Not yet—anyway. Got that?” Neither of the others spoke. “¢ Stephen!” rT 4 Yes” ‘“‘T want you—telephone at once. White- house. You know—lawyer man—Colches- ter. Most important. Tell him what’s hap- pened—come here quick as he can. Man we want. Go an’ do it.” Stephen did not move. his eyes wige. “Tf you don’t do it,” he said with an effort, ‘ I'll get up—try telephone myself!” “All right, Dickie,” said Stephen hast- ily. “I will, the minute the doctor’s seen you. Honest.” Richard seemed content. ‘So Piers is dead,” he said drowsily, ‘“‘and—here am I. It seems queer. When a man’s—got to die—”’ “You're not going to die!” said Stephen. “‘T didn’t mean me. Of course, I’m not going to die! If your doctor told me I’d got to, I wouldn’t,” said Richard sleepily. “Know why?” The ghost of a smile flickered on his lips. ‘‘ My damned obstinacy,” he whispered. ‘“1’m a Marney!”’ His eyelids drooped, and he relapsed into unconsciousness, But there was a new serenity in the silent face. “He'll do,” said Stephen. safe.” Beatrice gave a deep sigh. She swayed gently; Stephen slipped a swift, supporting arm around her. For the first time in her life Beatrice had fainted. Richard opened ** Dickie’s CHAPTER XLXIX. . STEPHEN UNDER ARREST. LICE SERGEANT LEUCHARS and Pconstabi Ferne, of the Essex Con- stabulary, arriving promptly on bi- cycles, found a group of awe-stricken men- servants standing beside two bodies that lay on the flagstones by the porch. The sergeant’s first question was met by a volley of confused replies from the bystand- ers; he glanced up at the window overhead, comicboooks C©