Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

902 friend leaning forward and talking, talking, talking in the lowest of undertones to Miss Wayne Leigh—yes, and to see the impos- sible way that Wayne was gazing back at him. Knowing Richard’s views about women, it couldn’t be, of course, and yet— “ Dick!” Bartley barked. Richard Flynn seemed to sense his voice, as something coming from afar. He stirred slightly and frowned. He shook himself and looked blankly at Bartley Greer. ““Oh—huh? Yes! Yes, Bart?” * Let’s go!” Bartley smiled. “Well, yes—but—” “Let’s go!” Mr. Greer repeated, and ceased smiling. A great sigh made its way out of Richard Flynn’s anatomy. He blinked and turned back to Miss Leigh. He murmured. Miss Leigh murmured. A _ perfectly visible wrench and Richard arose. ‘‘ All right—Bart,” he said uncertainly. Wayne was gazing after him with a dis- tinctly strange expression. In his chair Rolf moaned again and then opened an eye by way of learning why the moan brought no more prompt response. In the kitchen Prudence was fairly cackling her anxiety —and Bartley had steered Richard Flynn into the corridor and now they were moving downstairs. Further, he steered him into the room below and there he demanded bluntly: “What the devil’s the matter with you?” ‘“ With—huh—me?” Richard said hus- kily and then smiled very faintly. ‘ Bart, I didn’t—didn’t know there was a woman like Wayne on God’s green footstool!”’ ‘“ Wayne!” Bartley gasped. “Did you get to the ‘Wayne’ stage in fifteen min- utes?” ‘What? I—say, that is kind of queer, isn’t it?” Mr. Flynn admitted. “ Y’ know, that never struck me, Bart! I—there must be—some women a man gets acquainted with quicker than—he does with other women! It seems just as if ’'d known—” ‘“* Say! You’re not boob enough to think you've fallen in love with that black little rat?’ Bartley asked harshly. Richard gulped hard and glared at his friend. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “Here! None of that ‘ black little rat ’ stuff!” he shouted. ‘ She’s’no black little rat! She’s the most wonderful—” And he ceased his glaring and proffered for Bart- ley’s savage inspection a vast and foolish smile. “No, I’m not in love with her. That’s all rot. Only—well, there are mighty few women I’ve ever liked, even a little, and she happens to be one of them.” He thudded into a chair. He looked emptily up at Bartley Greer and smiled on; and Mr. Greer, with an exasperated snort, slammed another chair to his side and then sat down. “ Get that piffle out of your system and come down to cases!” he said roughly. “I thought [ didn’t need you on this job. I do!” “ Eh?” “Yes! That little devil upstairs thinks she has me licked cold. I don’t blame her, but she’s wrong nevertheless!” clicked from Bartley Greer. “‘Now I’m going to can that tame elephant of hers and put her in her own home, if it’s the last thing I do on this earth.” i “Tame elephant?” “ Rolf Armstruther! just tottered in up there!” ““’Yes—yes, I know now who you mean,” Richard beamed apologetically. ‘“‘ Just a second there I—I was thinking of some- thing else. I know now. Wayne was speak- ing of him. Wayne said—” “Damn Wayne!” Bartley Greer thun- dered. “Can you pay attention to what I’m trying to say or can’t you?” The words wheezed in his throat. Mr. Greer devoted another ten seconds, also, to glowering at his old friend. Things had indeed changed since their arrival this time in New York. The woman-proof Mr. Greer had passed through a siege of insanity— mercifully ended now in a complete cure— which was bad enough. But that the invulnerable Richard should have succumbed to an attack apparently more sudden and violent passed all reason. Subconsciously, this last hour, a shaken Bartley had been leaning more heavily than ordinarily on the usually iron- nerved Flynn, and he was swaying like a reed. The wreck that oO Comiclbooks.€©