Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 124: what you’re looking at

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434 seemed to bring her nearer to him. He _ still did not actually think of himself as a wealthy man. And he might be all the things that Howard had said he was, but certainly she liked him. It was Gertrude who had sought him out, and they had talked for three solid hours without even sitting down, CHAPTER XXIII. MR, HIGGINSON IS HELD UP. OD went down to his stateroom and began preparations for the illegal and outrageous thing which he was con- templating. The stateroom was a large two- berth room with a wide couch under the porthole, upon which a third berth could be made up in case of necessity. It con- tained an easy chair and two camp stools. The trunks had been pushed under the lower berth and the bags lay in the bottom of a commodious wardrobe at the end of the berths\, There was about thirty square feet of maneuvering surface, quite enough. Hig- ginson was not a large man. With Camp- bell’s help, Rod expected to overpower him with considerable ease. He did not let him- self consider the results of failure, because he did not expect to fail. He had nearly three-quarters of an hour to wait before he heard a knock at the door and Howard entered with their vic- tim. “ Hope we are not disturbing you, old man,” he began. ‘‘ They locked up the smoke room on us and I brought old Hig- ginson down here for an extra quart of the stuff that makes you happy. I got the quart out of the bar one second before they closed the joint.” * “Glad to have you, Mr. Higginson,” said Rod. ‘‘I’m not a bridge player, so I haven’t had a chance to see much of you. Won’t you sit down?” He indicated the easy chair. Higginson dropped into it with an affable smile. Howard began to open the quart with an unsteady hand. Rod saw that he had been drinking quite a little, probably to brace up his courage. With a loud pop the cork ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. came out with part of the contents. But there was plenty left. “Dll say Higgy is some bridge player, for he eased me out of a hundred and fifty to-night, and I’m a mean bridge player myself,” ‘Campbell is really very good,” said Higginson. “ It was the fortunes of war.” ‘Tm not kicking. Plenty more where that came from,” declared Howard, per- haps ambiguously. Rod was in a quandary. Here was his victim. He should leap upon him and get the job over with. But he hated to attack the man in such a cold-blooded manner. In a fight he would have been happy, but for two men—one of them much larger than the person assaulted—to fling themselves upon one—well, he hated to do it. So he made an error. He put him on his guard. “Mr. Higginson,” he declared, ‘ you took twenty-two hundred dollars from my purse on the train! You robbed Mrs. Pot- ter-Dunlap! You hid some of the loot in this stateroom!” Higginson struggled to his feet. His face was purple. “Why, you lying, treacherous, contemp- tible hound!” he began. “J had you brought down here to choke the truth out of you,” said Rod, moving toward him. ‘‘ I believe you have those jew- els on your person, and I’m going to get them.” Higginson leaped back against the wall, upon which two overcoats were hanging. With a lightning motion he brought into view a blunt-nosed automatic. “Stand back there, you big hick, or T'll drill you full of holes.” The change in the man was marvelous. From a suave, quiet, unassuming business man, he had become a violent and vicious- looking assassin. There was no doubt that he would shoot. From his position he covered both Rod and Howard. The latter had made no move forward and the sight of the gun unnerved him completely. “Don’t shoot!” he declared. up.” Rod was made of sterner stuff. His grandfather had fought Indians. He COPMIE OOKS5e) “We give