Adventure Magazine Cover, October 1911 — page 104: what you’re looking at

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

1050 Without another word he turned from the mystified General and led the way back to the glade. : We had barely reached it when the figure of a man entered it from the opposite side. “Here is Masten!” said the General. ““Ask him any questions you like, but I fancy he will be able to answer them satis- factorily.”’ The newcomer was slightly above the middle height, spare of figure and sallow of complexion, with a hatchet-shaped face from which looked eyes so pale as to give the impression that the pupils were lacking. He advanced to meet us, but, at the sight of Vokes, stopped suddenly and it seemed to me that his face took on an additional shade of pallor. There was a noticeable tightening of the lips and a sharp indrawing of the breath. If there was recognition on the part of the valet, there was none appar- ently on the part of the detective, for he barely glanced at him. “This,” said General Warbury, addressing Vokes, ‘‘is William Masten, a very faithful and attached retainer of old Mr. Variole. You saved his life once, didn’t you, Masten?”’ “Yes, sir,’ replied Masten respectfully. He appeared to have somewhat regained his composure. “‘Plunged after him when he fell into the Combe pool while fishing,” continued the General, “‘and pulled him out. You were nearly drowned yourself, were you not?” “Yes, sir,” said the valet again. ‘‘He was a good master to me was Mr. Variole.”’ The General looked at me with a sort of triumph. ‘“‘ And you were a good servant to him,” he said. ‘How long were you in his service?”’ ““Seven years, sir,’ replied Masten. “I entered it the year Mr. Geoffrey came home from college.” “Exactly,” said the General. ‘This, Masten, is Mr. Vokes, a very eminent de- tective. We do not believe that Mr.Geof- frey had any hand in his uncle’s death, and he is trying to clear up the mystery. He would like to ask you a few questions. I have told him I am sure you have nothing to conceal.” AGAIN that look of discomposure, not to say alarm, on the servant’s face as he turned to Vokes. “T am ready to answer any questions,” he said. oe Adventure “‘T have very few to ask,” returned Vokes, crisply. “I understand that your master kept several revolvers in the house?”’ “Yes, sir,” replied Masten; ‘“‘three—a small target-pistol, an American Colt, which a friend gave him some years ago, and a British army revolver.” ‘““Of the same pattern as the one which was found here?” “IT think so, sir. I never did know much about firearms, but I - “Your memory is not failing, is it?” in- terrupted Vokes, and the other gazed at him in a sort of helpless fascination. ‘You remember where they were kept?”’ “Yes, sir,” faltered the valet. ‘‘They are all in a drawer in the library.” “Then go,” said Vokes, authoritatively, ‘“‘and bring the army pistol here and half a dozen cartridges, if you can find any.” After a moment’s hesitation, and another frightened look at Vokes, Masten turned away without a word and disappeared in the direction from which he had come. The General stared hard at my friend with a perplexed brow. “I suppose you have some definite pur- pose in view,” he said, “‘but I’ll be hanged if I can guess what it is.” Vokes contented himself with a slight inclination of the head. ‘But, Vokes,” I said, “that man looked as if he knew you. If ever I saw fear on a ~ man’s countenance, I saw it on his!” “‘Possibly,”’ replied Vokes coolly. “Ten years ago I arrested him for burglary and attempted murder. ‘There was no moral doubt of his guilt, but we could not bring it home to him, although there were several previous convictions against him. William McGregor is his real name. ‘Moonlight Billy,’ he was known as. He was acquitted and I heard a year later that he had become converted, broken loose from his old asso- ciations and was living ‘on the square.’ After that I lost sight of him altogether. He has changed a good deal. In those days he wore a heavy beard and mustache, but I spotted him the moment I set eyes on him.” The countenance of General Warbury was a study in emotions. ‘“‘Good heavens!” he cried. ‘Do you mean to say that the man Variole placed so much confidence in is an old burglar, and that he once tried to murder some one?”’ “He fired at a man who interrupted him at work, and ‘winged’ him,” said Vokes un- CO MICLOOKS CO