Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 185: what you’re looking at

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

BEWARE OF A faint, infuriated gasp of pain came from William. “You back right up, you idiot!” issued sternly from the helmet. “ Keep your paws to yourself or—here!” He started back. There was no mistak- ing the lightning move of William’s band: William was reaching for a gun! He reached—and reached again! He threw back his coat and snarled © aloud, for the gun, in Thomas Henning’s overcoat pocket just then, was missing! The mailed hand was up to strike at him. It was descending, too—and it was just there, doubtless, that reason deserted William altogether. A vicious roar came from his lips. He drew back his trusty frst and crashed it squarely upon the solid visor! He also shrieked as a badly barked fist dropped and the armored knight, after a moment of rather dizzy-reeling about, re- cowered himself and came forward with a rattling, clanking bound and both armored fists raised in the approved modern fighting posture. _ Through William’s seething brain flashed understanding: a single blow and he was quite undone. He crouched, then. He laughed. He leaped forward, ducked, wound his arms around the ostensible wrecker of homes and tore at him. And after that? Perhaps the concep- tion of Thomas Henning, who stood ten yards away, may be clearer than that of William Emerson. William, of course, was wholly mad. To Thomas’s mind he had been peculiar, even as a boy, and this was the natural culmi- nation of his peculiarities: that William was trying to thrash the very life out of a person in solid steel negligee! Not that William wasn’t doing heroic- ally, though. Thomas held his breath as he watched. Although the iron arms were thrashing about, William had the upper hand so far. His own arms wound about the steel plates, William was tugging and straining, panting and snarling; and if his muscles held out, and there really was a weak spot in the Kratz’ armor, it was al- most an even bet that in the course of time William could tear the innocent unknown _ That crash was the armor, falling! 659 in two! A purely sporting thrill went through Thomas as he followed the battle. Other things were happening, too, though, were they not? Off there, some one stated that it was Hugh Bond, Sally’s THE BRIDE. -own brother—and one Joseph Watson, ad- dressed, laughed and remarked that it was a good thing to see a Bond being licked thoroughly! Nor were the words out of his mouth when the first speaker flamed out at him, the first speaker apparently being a parti- san of the original Grimshaw clan! Yes, and now, ball or no ball, Watson had so far forgotten himself as to strike the speak- er—and, by all that was amazing, the same thing was happening in a dozen other‘ spots as people flocked toward the original battle. Angry words were passing; gentlemen puffed openly that they were going to the rescue of Hugh Bond, openly stated that this was a deliberate plot to kill the boy. Other gentlemen, puffing as hard, opined without reserve that these gentlemen lied, and—Thomas guliped down the emotional lump in his throat and permitted the un- canny smile to reach his lips. It would not actually happen, of course; that sort of thing never does and never can happen in the best social circles of so cul- tured a community as Braydon. But by every earmark of the hysterical surge be- fore him, the great peace ball was about to break up in a free fight! And if that happened—Thomas jumped. He stood on tiptoe as a hush fell and people pressed closer and closer about the little alcove. Really, although hundreds of people were talking in. undertone, it was remark- ~ ably still just now. Oh, and there was the good doctor, who had so nearly undone Thomas once this evening, pushing his way through the press. The hush grew rather than diminished. The crowd stirred and pressed closer—and creuching, running, William Emerson him- self shot out of the group and to Thomas. “Tt wasn’t Mary!” he hissed. - “Get out!” gasped Thomas. “They'll be after me in a second —I slid! Can I hide in your flat until I’m able comicboo UN S Colin