Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 19, 1924 — page 134: what you’re looking at

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

604 He was impatient, too, for another, less sentimental reason. Queritt had made no difficulty about the check. He had had it, certified and ready for Corvan, when Cor- van had come to ask for it. But Corvan had felt a certain hidden menace in the little man’s shrewd glances; and he won- dered what veiled meaning had lurked in the words that Queritt had spoken. Corvan had suspected that Queritt knew much and deduced more of Corvan’s real relations with Wade, and he had approached the vic- tim with a smooth argument to cover his apparent change of mind. ‘““ Conditions have arisen,’ he had ex- plained, ‘“‘ which make it imperative that I liquidate some of my securities. So if you are still prepared to buy my Turn Stiles stock, I should be glad to accept your of- fer.” Queritt had eyed him with his twinkling eray eyes that seemed so inconveniently Wise, _“ Dm glad you’ve decided to sell,” he had said. Corvan watched him easily as he arose and teok from a brief case the certified check. What was moving behind those shrewd eyes, Corvan could not guess. How much did the little man know? And if he suspected Corvan, why did he come across so easily? “We can fix the details afterward,” Queritt assured him as he handed him the check. -And then he had spoken the words which now dwelt in Corvan’s mind. ‘ When I first met you,” said Queritt, “‘ I decided you were the kind of man it is a pleasure to do business with. You are still the same man, aren’t you?”’ ‘““T certainly feel the same,” said Corvan, and he smiled mendaciously. As he left the room, Queritt had shot one question at him. “You are going back te your house, I suppose?” he had esked. And Corvan had lied quickly. “Yes,” he said. _ Now, on the station platform, the words came up to worry him. Why had Queritt shot that last question at him? Why, above all, had he let the little man baffie him se? ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Tt occurred to him that Queritt might be laying a trap. What if he and Wade were to be followed—arrested? He found him- self hoping that Wade might make a clean get-away. And he laughed. It was a laugh from a shattered heart. That would be the last fine joke the fates could perpetrate. That after all his struggle and agony of spirit—after his battle, his defeat and his renunciation—that he should fall foul of the law after all—that would be the cream of the jest. He laughed. On the other side of the station he heard the putter of a motor car. Subconsciously he reflected that that would be the station agent arriving. He must go in and get his ticket. Then a whistle wailed and hoot- ed up the railway, and a great light flashed into his eyes as a train roared down upon the station. Corvan’s mind leaped suddenly from his meditations. This must be the down train which passed the one for which he waited here at Brookhampton. ten it. . As the train squealed to a stop, the door of the station opened, and a girl crossed the platform. Corvan saw her as she dart- ed by, intent upon the still moving cars. And his heart bounded in his breast. His face turned ashen as the blood fled, and a great sickness almost overwhelmed him. It was she—Margaret Fiske! What fate had brought her here? Frozen to the spot, he watched her re- treating form as it passed along the line of cars. She stopped before the steps of one, and he saw a slight, young figure step down to the platform beside her. Another fol- lowed—a woman. ‘Then the trio turned to- ward the waiting room. As Corvan stood there on the platform they came directly toward him. THe stepped forward. ‘“ Margaret!” he cried. It was a shat- tered, broken cry. A cry oi hurt; of unut- terable despair. ‘‘ Margaret!” ‘Dan Corvan! Where have you been?” But his eyes had left her face to dwell upon the lad who stood beside her. He was a slight lad of sixteen or seventeen, but his face bore a light and a fair happiness in it He had forgot- | (COMIC OO KSs€O)