Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

820 that?” he countered. “In all six of the families living on this block there are only three children; the Goddards’ boy Horace, who is fourteen, Daphne Burminster, two years younger—she belongs in that great corner house over there, but they haven’t come back yet from the country—and little Maudie Bellamy. Horace is kind of sickly and has a private teacher—they call him a tutor, and Miss Daphne has a maid and a governess, both of them old and sour. The Bellamy baby has the only nurse on the block and she’s foreign—French, I guess.” ““Some of those French girls are beau- ties.’ McCarty spoke with the air of a connoisseur and Dennis coughed. The for- mer added hastily: “‘ Is this one a looker?” “Pretty as a picture and as nice as she’s pretty!”” There was immense respect as well as admiration in Bill’s voice. ‘“ I guess she ain’t been over long, for she’s awful young and shy, but she knows how to take care of herself, as Hughes found out.” He checked himself suddenly, but Mc- Carty chuckled with careless amusement. “He was a great hand with the women, they tell me!” he commented. “Not her kind. Lucette—even her name’s pretty, ain’t it? Lucette is polite to everybody, but Alfred Hughes didn’t understand that and thought he’d made a hit, I guess. One night, real late, about a month ago—Dave Hollis, the night watch- man told me about it—Lucette ran out to the drug store for some medicine for little Maudie, who’d been took sick awful sudden, and when she came back Alfred Hughes met her right in front of her own house. “He must have tried to put his arm around her or something, for she gave a little cry, and Dave, who’d waited to fasten the gate again after letting her in, came hurrying up just as Alfred Hughes said something in a low kind of a voice and she slapped his face! Then she ran into the house sobbing to herself, and Dave says he gave Alfred Hughes hell—the big stiff!” Bill checked himself again and added in renewed embarrassment: ‘‘ I didn’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but I guess nobody on the block had much use for him except Mrs. Bellamy’s butler, Snape; the two of them have been thick as thieves for years.” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ‘Ts that so?” McCarty turned deliber- ately to his self-effacing colleague. ‘‘ Didn’t somebody say as much to you, Denny?” “That Hughes and this Snape were friendly? Sure!” Emboldened by having found his voice Dennis added guilelessly: “°Twas that Chink butler at Mr. Orbit’s told me, I’m thinking. Nice, sociable fel- low, if he does wear a pigtail; didn’t you find him so, Mac?” “TY found he’d more brains than most of the galoots who come over here and Jand in the fire department!’ McCarty retorted with withering emphasis, then turned to the watchman again. ‘“ What sort of a guy is this Snape—the same kind as Hughes?” “Underneath, maybe, but you’d never think it to look at him. He’s younger by ten years at least than Hughes, slim and dark and minds his own business. If it wasn’t for the gates you’d never know when he went in or out.” McCarty darted a quick, sidelong glance at his informant, 7 ‘Keeps funny hours, does he?” “Late ones.” Biull grinned again, “TI guess Mrs. Bellamy doesn’t know it, but be- ing the only man in her house he has it all his own way. He ain’t any too anxious to have his doings known, though, for Dave says he’s tried more than orce to slip in with the milk! J ain’t spoke ten words to him and I’ve held down this job over a year. Here comes Horace Goddard now!” The trio had strolled past the closed houses which flanked that of Mrs. Bellamy and were nearing the eastern gate. As Bill hurried forward McCarty glanced through the high iron bars of the fence and saw a slender, undersized boy with very red hair and a pale, delicate face who approached with a weary droop of his narrow shoulders and a dragging step. At sight of Bill Jen- nings opening the gate, however, he quick- ened his pace, a smile lifting the corners of the sensitive mouth. ‘Hello, Bill!” His voice was still a clear, almost childish treble. “ Hello, there, buddy! What’s the good word?” the watchman returned cheerily. “Tt isn’t very good, not for me!” The boy’s face clouded once more. Mr. Blais- dell is going away on a sketching tour for COMIC OOKS2GO