Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 98: what you’re looking at

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

403. i even a suggestion of real amusement in her smile; but she was moving back toward her room, nevertheless. Graves followed to the narrow passage and even a yard or so up the passage. Graves stood there for some little time in hesitation after the door had closed; there was no further sign of ~ Cynthia. This was because Cynthia, at the mo- ment, was sitting on the edge of her bed, alternately laughing breathlessly and mut- tering indignantly. Her excursion in search of a phone really had not been a glowing success! Or that particular excursion had not been, at all events—which was no rea- son at all why the next one should not be crowned with a triumph that she so much - desired. Oh, there was to be a next one, just as soon as she heard Graves retire from her post. Cynthia listened intently. Aha! She was going, even now! Miss Blair’s keen ear caught the faintest creaking of a door hinge; it was safe to assume that Graves had resumed her watch from her own quarters. | So, that being all right, and using a great deal more care than she had used in the first instance, the guest of the house made her way to the door of her room, which led to the main corridor, opened it and looked inquiringly up and down the corridor. This, too, was very dimly illuminated. It was also deserted. Cyn- thia dimpled and moved, without so much as a rustle, toward the head of the stairs— and from a little alcove whose very ex- istence she had not even suspected, Towner bobbed up, so suddenly that his glasses slid from his nose. He caught them with a deft clap at his chest. He blinked a lingering drowsiness from his eyes. He shook his head as he replaced the glasses and said very softly, and, it must be acknowledged, very sorrow- fully: “Oh, tut, tut! The very thing I feared, eh?” “Towner, please don’t—”’ “TI couldn’t believe it, thinking of you, miss—and then again I had a feeling in my bones you was going to try it out!” the butler said, very earnestly, indeed. “TI did ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, and that’s why f£ waited—to save you from yourself, miss!” ‘“ To—do what?” ‘Honey, I’m plenty old enough to be your father; I want you to listen to me a minute,” said Towner, and his kindly eyes suffused with moisture. ‘I could just as well hold you and send for the madam and tell her what’s afoot, you know. Well, I ain’t going to do that, no matter if I should. Miss, you’re just a little girl—you ain’t any more than a child. And there’s good in you aplenty, too—there’s a heap more good than you yourself ever suspect. Probably there’s hundreds more like you, and every one just as heartbreaking. It’s what I’ve said time and again, these last years—too much liberty and not enough honest train- ing; and in your case, somehow, you’ve got” in with real bad associates, of course. But I’m telling you, for I speak from some ex- perience, that it ain’t too late!’ “Too late for what?” Cynthia asked, rather dazedly. “To face about and go straight!” said the good soul, and his voice broke. “Honey, I’m begging you as I’d beg my own child, if I had one, just to reform.” ‘“ Well, as—as it chances, I don’t need to reform, Towner,’”’ Cynthia replied, not very steadily. ‘I—” “But you do. You do! There’s noth- ing to this sort of life. There’s only one end to it and—psst!” “ What?” ‘ She’s stirring! The madam’s stirring!” Towner gasped. ‘I heard her cane that time, Get back, quick, and stay there, and Tl swear I ain’t seen you!” He even turned her about and gave her a little push; and with the oddest speed Cyn- thia regained her room. Somehow, she did not crave an interview with Mrs. Stone just then and under just those circumstances that then prevailed. Cynthia, in fact, fairly scurried to her room and to her perch on the edge of the bed. There she sat for two or three long minutes, listening, breathing rapidly, wink- ing rapidly, yet at the same time endeavor- ing to look precisely like a young woman - who has just been roused from sound sleep and is wondering what it is all about. “S Gomichboo ((0)