The Black Mask — page 106: what you’re looking at

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

ry . 104 crooked fingers, stained with chemi- cals, twitching and pulling at his coat as he walked “—how do I know that she won’t go with him if I send him away?” Lannen remembered the brief glimpse he -had had of the gardener. A slim tall fellow, little more than a boy, with close cropped dark hair, a pale almost ethereal face, a quiet un- assuming manner. “How long has he been here?” “Allering? Six weeks!” Willoughby hit the glass-topped table nervously. As he did so a tiny vial of amber covered liquid fell over, knocking the stopper out of it. A pungent sickish odor filled the room. The doctor gave a startled cry. Flinging a small rubber blanket over the table, he lifted the vial gingerly. He placed the stopper back in it, carefully keeping it away from his face. Then he covered it with the rubber. He had beeome ashen colored. As though unable to speak, he motioned to Lannen to throw up the windows. “Damn careless of me,” he mut- tered a moment later. He placed the bottle high up in a cabinet above him, then he locked the door of the chest. ‘Damn care- less. It’s an experiment of mine, Ar- thur. Dy’e feel alright?” Lannen laughed uneasily. “TI shouldn’t care to remain in here long with that odor. It’s heady, to say the least.” Willoughby poured some liquid from another bottle into a small glass and handed it to him; then he took a draught of it himself. “Drink this. It will overcome the effects of the other.” Suddenly he became tense. The glitter in his eyes became more pro- nounced. He seemed to be listening to some- After Midnight — x thing. The warm salt air blowing through the window brought a hint of the distant sea—and something else. “What is it?’ Lannen gasped. The quivering of Willoughby’s _ wide nostrils, the sudden snapping of the glass’s stem intrigued him. “Listen !” A long sort of growl—then a long drawn how! from a dog some place not far off was all Lannen heard. There was another howl, then silence. The color came back to the phy- sician’s face. He smiled apologeti- cally. Lannen stared at him in bewilder- meat, “What is it?” he asked again. “I—I thought I heard her come down the stairs. I was listening to hear if he met her!’ The man’s . tongue seemed to be thick. He spoke with difficulty, « “Buck up, old man, buck up!” Lannen gave him a reassuring slap on the shoulder, but at the same time he glanced apprehensively over his shoulder out of the window toward the gardens beyond. Again the long rumbling howl of the dog penetrated the night air. The older man suddenly lurched forward into a chair and began to sob in a broken hearted way. At that moment Lannen fancied he saw a face at the open window, but before he could ascertain whether it was his imagina- tion or not, it had vanished; but to him it seemed he had seen a young pale face with smouldering dark eyes and close cropped hair. “Whew!” he exclaimed. wrong with me?” “What’s II Tue sudden clamor of a clock strik- ing three startled him out of a sound ” cs va ‘ i Comicbooks-com ~~ —_—