Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 3 — page 209: what you’re looking at

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

TEN Ferguson coughed slightly. “T ‘knew you’d stop here,” he said. “You'd always spoken so well of this place, and you’d always stopped here before. you came to live in New York. So we came here, after Larry died; Edna at the tele- phone and I down-stairs. Of course, we knew that you’d come. We kept in touch with things. We knew about the new min- ing-field opening up, and we read about the tremendous fortune you had made down there.”’ Ferguson paused, then made a gesture. “That’s all,” he concluded lamely. “‘ You’ve come, that’s all. And we’re here. I suppose you'll do the right thing, like Larry said?” Torblend smiled thinly. have been afraid ef—this! “Nonsense, Ferguson,” he said, perfect- ly poised again, perfectly himself. “I’m not nearly so rich as you think. That min- ing-field had little to do with it—the affair was rather a fizzle; started out big and then blew up.” Ferguson stared at him. In the gray, wide eyes was a shocked surprise—a hurt look. “You don’t mean, Mr. Torblend,” he asked plaintively, ‘“‘ that—that you won’t do the right thing?” Torblend still smiled at him, master of the affair now. “Nothing doing, Ferguson,” he said crisply. “If I let you blackmail me once, you’d be doing it forever. No—nothing like that, thanks! Besides, there’s nothing coming to you at all. Nothing.” | As he spoke, he was watch ing Ferguson narrowly, muscles gathered in readiness. Perhaps he was mistaken after all— — But no. Ferguson merely looked a little What a fool to older, a little more bowed and helpless. A_ frown of puzzled dismay creased his brow. Then he turned. “Very well,” he said weakly. ‘“ Very well. No more to’ be said, of course, Mr. Torblend. I hope—I hope I haven’t in- truded on you.” Torblend did not reply. He watched Ferguson go to the door, pick up his cap, take up the ice-bucket and return. He -watched the man narrowly, suspiciously, MINUTES. -pidor. - doorway. A491 alert for,the least sign of menace. But none came. | Ferguson poured the water and clinking ice into the silver pitcher, turned up a glass in readiness, picked up the quarter and pocketed it. “ Thank you, sir,” he said, and went to the door. ‘ Anything else, sir?” “ Nothing, thanks,” responded Torblend, still suspicious. Ferguson unlocked the door, opened it, and departed. Since his arrival, eight min- <utes had elapsed-—no more. iil. THE instant his caller was gone, Tor- blend was out of his chair with a leap, and at the door. He locked it, then swung about, a laugh on his lips. ‘“‘'What a damned fool I was!” he cried out, almost gayly. ‘“ Why, for a minute I was actually afraid of the poor devil—if he’d come at me with a demand, I’d have given him a hundred thousand and thought it cheap! Conscience, I suppose. Damn conscience! Nothing like getting a grip on yourself, eh?” He puffed at his cigarette, which had burned low, and then tossed it into a cus- Still laughing at the thought in his mind, he stepped to the table, poured him- self a glass of water from the silver pitcher, and. drank it. “ Ah,” he reflected, ‘“‘ I suppose it ’d be safer, all the same, to move—or else have him and that sister of his fired. That ’d- be the better way, I imagine—” A queer look came into his eyes—a look of surprise, of incredulous astonishment, of realization. He looked down at the silver pitcher; an oath fell from his lips as he dashed it to the floor. He threw out his arms, then forced one hand to his mouth, evidently in the effort to gag himself. Turn- ing, he rushed toward the bathroom. Too late! at the wall. He fell through the bathroom Only -his left ankle and foot re- mained visible from the room as he lay. For a moment the foot jerked slightly—then was still. The ten minutes were up. Original frory | 0 STATE UNTVE (EIDOO J He staggered, reeled, clutched S CO THE O