Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 66: what you’re looking at

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»s. Her lips plead dumbly for them. eyes beg for them.” dis clasp tightened, his cheek brushed ers. ‘She was stifling—felt she must col- lapse in another moment if that screaming, beating, vibrating jazz went on. _ And then young Coleman cut in. He _ was still young enough to hate the older man and all that he represented—money without toil or effort—success with many women, not one of whom had really cared —a flippant view of all that was really worth while in life—the perfection of every- thing that didn’t matter and nothing that did. “ May I break?” he asked, politely, cold- ly, meaning more than that he wanted to finish the dance with Katherine. It would have been against all ethics to refuse, but Nettleton yielded her up un- willingly. Katherine, as she changed part- ners, was conscious of an inner feeling of relief; but her face in no wise betrayed her. She smiled after the departing Nettleton, and called “ Thanks ’—she smiled up at young Coleman and murmured: “ Well—this is nice!” And she thought that it was nice—there was something distinctly nice about this boy who was trying so hard and so awk- wardly to be a man. He looked almost grotesquely clumsy, dancing—as most col- lege boys do—but he was really very light and very graceful—and guided perfectly. ‘‘T wish we could go home,” he said sud- denly, after dancing for several momenis in silence. “Why?” asked Katherine curiously, looking up at him. “J don’t know!” Aren’t you having a good time?” Not very,” whe answered frankly. “There’s something wrong. Guess I'm feeling kind of ‘down’ to-night.” wondered whether he sensed. the hat was hanging over them — the 1 in the room upstairs—the pursuit surderer — the awful danger that owing her. He did not seem who might sense such ave, ail ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. e to give him a hint. He parried. Oh, yes,”’ she answered, ° I’m havir a whirl!” ‘I wonder,” he said gravely. that way. But—” “ But what?” she Sasped, staring. ‘I suppose I’m an ass. But | feel as if age not so happy!” “Funny boy!’’ she mu ae y y rmured, nestling “ If I can do anything. You know!” he said. “ The usual hero stuff. If ever you should need a friend—” “ Nice boy,” she whispered. And then—Stanton Wilcox cut in. And the jazz went on and on and on—and men and women danced and drank and smoked, and laughed and whispered together. And Bartlett, behind his screen of palms, looked on alertly, through eyes that burned som- berly out of a gray, set face. ' CHAPTER NX. ACCUSATION FLIES FROM LIP TO LIP. PSTAIRS, Silvers and Garry were U Staring at Fielding in frank umaze- ment. “Do you realize what you're saying?” cried Garry. “ Do you mean to say that you saw Miss Kendall kill Guy da Costa?” “Yes,” answered Fielding, ‘that’s ex- actly what I mean!” “No, no!” protested Joan Olcott. “Don’t believe him. He isn’t responsible —really. He couldn’t have seen such a thing! He was downstairs—with me—at my table! Besides—he has taken a dislike to Miss Kendall ever since Guy has been interested in her—and when Moffie dislikes any one—he’ll stop at nothing.” Fielding remained quite calm through all this—and smiled. “TI know what I saw,” he said, as Joan ended. ‘How did she kill him?’ asked Garry, then. cé How?’”’ “ Yes—-in what way—with what sort of weapon?”’ Fielding’s eyes wandered swiftly toward the covered body; there was nothing there comicbooks.com