Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 73: what you’re looking at

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

THE COME-BACK. terio-sclerosis as well, even so slight an acceleration should be avoided. Now the judge heard the rumble of a man’s voice at the door, a few words from Marie, blurred and indistinguishable. And tat-tat-tat sounded the heels again after muffled reverberation of the Closing door. ‘“Some one to see you, sir.’ & ‘‘ Who is it, Marie? What’s the matter?” The girl—pretty as only they grow in County Clare—shook her head. “He wouldn’t give his name, sir. it didn’t matter.” “Hmmm! What kind of a man?” The judge’s somewhat flabby right hand tightened on the chair-arm. He cast a fleeting glance at the desk-drawer where lay the gun. “ Oh—kind of a nice lookin’ man, sir. He’s dressed up real good.” “What does he want? Did he say?” ‘No, sir, he wouldn’t. Just said he only wanted to see you a minute. Said a minute or two ’d be enough. Sure, it must be some kind o’ private business. He said you’d know him all right.” With jangled nerves Judge Van Blount half rose from his chair, paling a little. Then he sank back, with that same kind of gulp he had made when he had read the item about Duggan’s parole. “ Tell him to go away!” he bade huskily. ‘“*T—I’m not at home for callers—for busi- ness, here. Haven’t I told you not to ad- mit strangers?” “Sure, Z didn’t admit him. He come right in, before I could stop him!” “Well, tell him to go away. Tell him to call—to-morrow—at my office.” The judge was sweating now; sweating and shivering. ‘‘J did, sir, like you told me always to. But he said, no, he didn’t have the time. Couldn’t wait till to-morrow, sir. Said he was goin’ to see you to-night—an’ I guess, sir, he is, too. Sure, such a way he’s got with him. The judge advanced a quivering hand, and dragged his ‘phone toward him. Ter- ror glinted from his eyes, out through the round, shell-rimmed glasses. Those eyes, once implacable, were now those of a hunted creature. Said 70: eh) He was just going to unhook the receiver and call: “Emergency! Police headquarters !—”’ when the girl uttered a little gasp. She stepped back, out of the way. There in. the library door appeared a man. A neatly-dressed man he was, clean too; one who rather gave the impression of a well-to-do mechanic. Marie glanced up approvingly at him. “A nice lookin’ man, sure!” was her thought. “ An’ what a way he’s got with him!” She and the judge both had impressions of a fresh shave, clean linen, a good tie; of eyes that looked straight out. But the judge saw more than Marie. He saw that the man held both hands thrust into the pockets of his square-cut coat. And now, as the man stood there, he heaved his shoulders with a slight swagger. Pride sat on his face, and happiness. “Good evenin’, judge, y’r honor!” he exclaimed. ‘“ Well, I’m here. It’s me— Duggan!” Judge Van Blount’s jaw gaped. His cigar fell to the rug, unheeded. All the color drained out of his somewhat shrunken cheek, as tides from Fundy. His trembling hand left the ‘phone. As he sagged a little backward, he raised that hand, repelling. “No, no! Go away!” he quavered; and added a lie: ‘ ’ve—I’ve called the police!” Duggan laughed easily. ‘““*Scuse me, judge, but I don’t believe it. I never heard a word out 0’ you, since I come into this house. Not a word ’bout the bulls. Nothin’ but how you couldn’t see me. But you are seein’ me, ain’t you? An’ the cops—now, what ’d you be wantin’ them for?” He stood there still in the doorway, large of shoulder and half-quizzical, looking at the altered figure before and beneath the level of his eyes. The last time he had seen that figure, he had been obliged to look up at it; and it had been a very different figure, too, black-robed, pompous, florid. Not a quivering, clay-faced wretch with fear-pale eyes. “You don’t want no cops now, judge! T told you I’d come back, didn’t I? Well, I have. Some come-back! Now—” CONnnicoool<s.Conn