Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 155: what you’re looking at

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

GRAFT. present, and whose desperate unhappiness she could more readily picture to herself because she knew him better. For Peggy could not bear to behold unhappiness, just then. She turned to Jack. “Take me home,” she begged. take me home!” “The best possible place for you!” con- curred Jack, and to this the city editor, who had just reéntered, nodded hearty assent. The city editor opened a door that led from the room in which Peggy and Jack had been sitting. This was a species of large board room, nominally sacred to the use of the company’s directors, and the door led thence into the city editor’s own domain. With Jack close behind her, Peggy would have hurried through, but in her path there was a group of men attracted by the un- precedented sensation—copy readers, re- write men and the like, whose places were properly elsewhere—and this detained her. Therefore, though she did not see the party that entered the board room, she could not help but hear Senator Reynolds, when he spoke again. “Sit down!” ordered the Senator; and then, when the scraping of the chairs sub- sided, he went on. “T’ve sent for all you men, from every paper in the city,” said he, ‘“‘ because I want you to hear what I have to say and also the tale that your precious district attorney is going to tell. I want you to get it all and get it straight. To begin with, I wish to announce that the Governor offered to par- don both Mr. Ayres and Mr. Herondene. But they won’t accept pardons, because they’re not guilty. Their indictments must be quashed, or else—” “Look out! Stop him! Quick!” It was three different voices that uttered these cries practically at the same instant. There followed a rush of feet and a con- fusion of other cries. Stepping backward, Jack took a hurried peep into the room he just had left. The city editor darted by him, in a moment to return and begin forcing a passage for Peggy through the crowd that now, in its anxiety to see into the room, impeded her more than ever. A faint odor, as of peaches, hung heavily in the air. Jack caught the editor’s eye. ** Please 781 “Horton?” he asked, behind Peggy’s back. He did not speak the word; only shaped it with his lips. The editor nodded. ‘“ Dead?” then asked Jack, in the same way. Another nod. ‘* Cyanide?”’ The city editor nodded for a third time. The passage was open now, and Jack hurried Peggy through, and out of the city room. “What was that scuffle back there?” she asked, listlessly, as they went down the single flight of stairs. “‘ Somebody trying to escape?” “Yes,” he answered, after an instant of hesitation. It was true, and there was no use in going into ghastly details just then. “Who was it?” Peggy went on to ask. “‘ Horton, I believe.” They had reached the street by this time. Peggy sighed. ‘““T almost wish he had succeeded,” said she. “I hate to have anybody unhappy— anyway, on this day. -How good the fresh air tastes!” He assented, and packing her carefully into the roadster, started on their home- ward way. They did not speak again until the journey was almost at an end. “Shall we tell her—Aunt Sophronia— right away, about us?” “Sure thing!” answered Jack, trying hard to conceal inward trepidation under an off-hand manner. ‘“‘ There’s nothing to be gained by waiting that I can see.” “What d’ you think she’ll say?” During the drive Jack had been giving practically his entire mind to this question, but he did not consider it worth while to say So. , ‘Oh, I suppose she’ll be surprised. I’m afraid she’ll want to put us off because we’re so young—or rather, because you are. Maybe she’ll scold a bit. But I don’t be- lieve that she’ll object on any grounds other than our youth. I hope not, any- way.” “She can’t,” asserted Peggy, with con- viction, as the roadster came to a stand. “And do you know,” she added, thought- fully, jumping to the stepping block, “ I’ve COMMICLOOOkKS (C@