Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 7, 1922 — page 141: what you’re looking at

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

THE SIGN OF “No,” he said, “it is not a lie. I can take my oath that what you have read me there is the truth.” “Yes? One wouldn’t expect a man to die with a lie on his lips. But with Piers—” Richard shook his head. “You say he is dying,” he said more gently, a look almost of admiration came into his eyes. ‘‘ There is more in Piers than you would think. His—intelligence remains with him to the last.” “Do you mean this acknowledgment of me as his heir? I don’t see—” “No; I don’t only mean that.” 6s But—”’ “‘T agree with that statement he has made to the police,” repeated Richard. ‘ And— I hope that Beatrice will agree with it, too.” Stephen was at a loss. Before he could answer the doctor appeared and glanced at Richard. ° “I must ask you to leave my patient now,” he said to Stephen. Richard nodded. “Tell Betty what I said,” was his last word. Stephen found himself outside. ‘““T seem to be the only fool in the piece,” he said dazedly; “ it’s got me beat.” He turned, and found his sister standing at his elbow. Beatrice appeared to have recovered, but was looking so worn and dis- tressed that Stephen felt a shock of alarm as he looked at her. She touched him on the arm, and without a word led the way to a small boudoir adjoining her own room. She closed the door, and her first inquiry was for Richard. “‘ Going strong,”” said Stephen; “ nothing to worry about at all. But Piers,” he add- ed, ‘is not dead, as I thought. They tell me he cannot last long.” The girl’s eyes hardened at the mention of Piers’s name. She looked as bitter as Richard had done. The news was far from arousing any sympathy in her. “* Tell me,” she said. “Are you sure you're fit to hear any more of this? It seems—” “Of course I am. Get on with it.” He made her sit on the sofa, put an arm around her, and gave her briefly the same information he had given Richard. She re- ceived it very differently. At the end, her eyes. were blazing with anger. * THE SERPENT. 287 “It is false from beginning to end!” she cried. ‘‘ Who can have believed it?” Stephen felt as if his head were spinning. “The police believe it,” he replied, ‘“‘ and Dickie says it’s true, and that he can swear to it.” Beatrice rose to her feet. ‘“‘ Dickie says that?” she gasped. “And he said that you would agree.” Beatrice seemed utterly taken aback. There was a long silence, and at last she spoke. “ Listen,” she said, “ and I will tell you what did happen.” She described to Stephen all that had passed between Piers, Richard, and herself in the upper room before the tragic arrival of Mad Matt. Beatrice had regained con- trol of herself; she told the story quite sim- ply. It was Stephen who, as he heard it, turned deathly white. “‘ Of all the fiends that ever existed,” he sdid thickly, “I guess there was never one like Piers.” “You see,” said Beatrice simply, “ it was me he meant to kill. Unless we gave in to him, and let him have his way. And as Dickie couldn’t stop him—he just threw himself between, and took the bullet that was meant for me.” Stephen looked at his sister. There was a moisture in his eyes that prevented his seeing very much of her. “That,” he said with a faint gulp, “ is very like Dickie.” Beatrice nodded. She was unable to speak. Suddenly she buried her face in her hands, and began to cry like a small child. Stephen dropped beside her on the sofa and comforted her as well as he was able. Presently the sobs ceased. “He'll be as well as I am in a month— old Dickie,” said Stephen. ‘“ The only loser is Piers.” He paused. ‘“ Why did he tell that tale to the police?” “‘TIsn’t it clear as daylight?” said the girl. “They have not questioned either Dickie or me. Piers knew it. He gives the police his vérsion. It’s simple and plain, and they accept it. He intends us to accept it, too. “Hs acknowledges you as his nephew, Stephen—he clears the way for you. Mer- sea Holt is no use to a dead man. Of his comicboooks C©