The Black Mask — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

110 After Midnight “Tt was murder, Mr. Lannen. That poor fellow out there died the death that was intended for me?!” ’ “What do you mean by that?’ Lannen dropped his cigar and quickly rescued it from the carpet. “I’m not going to hide anything sir, only—only I—I can’t face the po- lice—not yet—I’ve—I can’t tell you! But can’t you tell them what I say and keep me out of their way? Isn’t it possible?” his white face worked convulsively. He spoke as though compelled to -do so against his will. _“T don’t understand you,” said the other man coldly, “You say someone desired your death, yet you don’t want to inform the police yourself. Don’t you realize that you will have to testify? You were with Mrs. Wil- loughby when she stumbled over the body.” “Yes, sir.” “Tm a lawyer, Allering, perhaps you didn’t know that.” “Yes—yes I knew it; that’s why I’m asking you to help me. To help Louise—I—” lLannen winced as he used the Christian name of his friend’s wife, but the gardener did not see the -movement. “You didn’t kill the man, did you?” snapped Lannen suddenly. “No! No! Good God, no!” “Well, then will you be kind enough to explain just what is it all about?” “He hates me—” Allering con- tinued. “Who?” “Andrew — Andrew Willoughby. He hates me as much as he fears me—”* Lannen started angrily to his feet. “Willoughby is my friend!” The younger man laughed strident- ly. “Friend! He’s no man’s friend! There’s only one thing in the world of any value to him, that’s science! Didn’t you see how he took the death of that poor dog out there? I was be- hind a clump of shrub. I heard and saw him. He gloated over his body! He was glad! Glad that a man had died and proven another one of his damnable poisons efficacious!” “By God!—are you _ insinuating that—that Andrew Willoughby killed the man out there?” “A man he had never seen, a stray tramp—” “Tt was intended for me—” Aller- ing returned wearily—” he failed in his purpose so far as I was concerned, but he made a sure test and it proved successful.” “You're making an astounding statement, young man,” said Lannen straining to keep his voice calm and wuninterested—You_ are accusing a man of murder; your employer, the husband of the woman with whom—” Allering sprang to his feet. The veins stood out in great welts on his high, thin forehead. His _ nostrils quivered. When he again sank into his chair he was panting from the struggle. “Mr. Lannen,” he said abruptly, “I ° —I met Louise, Mrs. Willoughby, outside in the grounds—why I did so is our affair—but she is a good woman,—you must know she is! Her husband is more than a scoundrel; he is the vilest, lowest—’ Lannen’s gesture interrupted him, he con- tinued in a quieter tone— “We met by an arbor near the greenhouses. It is very dark there, and in spite of its being moonlight we weren’t seen; but we saw the figure of a man as he came out of the house. It was Andrew Willoughby. At first we thought he had seen Louise leave and was following us;