Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 4 — page 73: what you’re looking at

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

BEWARE OF he’s got an ex-racing driver working on one of his taxis. He’ put you over that fifty -miles in-better than eighty minutes!” “ Really!” ‘Ves, and have five minutes to spare out of that eighty! Tkat’s settled, too! Now, what else is there? Ah! Tobesure! fust what are you going to say when you do meet Bill?” “ J_don’t know!” Mary faltered. “ Well, of course, being forced into lying is always horrible, Mary,” young Mr. Hen- ning said, without great emotion, “ but it seems to me that, placed in a similar posi- tion, I sheuld give William a baby stare, ask just where he was while you hunted for him through the train—and jumped off at the last minute, of course—and then get mad and inquire whether he cares so little for his wife that he will force her to tear through the night at sixty miles an hour with a strange driver! Do you get the drift ef it?” - “Qh, yes,” Mary sighed. “ There is nothing more to be said. I'll get a taxi down-stairs and I'll be back in- side of ten minutes, bag, car, driver, and “everything else. Good-by, my child, and don’t look so forlorn. The worst is all over!” 7 - Unsuccessfully, the bewildered eyes tried to smile at him. Thomas turned away rather hurriedly and made for the door; years beyond memory, when on rare occa- sions he had seen tears on’ Mary’s cheeks, there had been an almost irresistible im- pulse to kiss them away, and it was no weaker now. Furthermore, if his rather wild scheme were to be worked out, every second count- ed! From the closet at one corner of the foyer, Thomas extracted his light overcoat and a perfectly conventional felt hat, and turned to give Mary a final encouraging smile. Then, with his hand upon the knob, he started slightly and paused, visited by some new instinct of caution. Just across the hall, as nearly as he could Judge, somebody was rapping smartly upon a door with his knuckles; and while there was no earthly reason why he shonld not knock as long and as hard as he chose, this was really no time for Thomas to hurl THE BRIDE. 579 open his own door and reveal an armored knight with brilliant, tousled hair and glorious eyes to a possibly interested fellow tenant. The knocking continued. Thomas frowned and stooped finally, placing one eye neatly over his keyhole and squinting hard. And as he squinted, a pronounced prick- ling took place about the roots of his hair; a visible shock ran through his body; his mouth opened and remained open. Had one been near enough to watch, it would have been apparent that much of Thomas’s excited coloring had selected this moment to go somewhere else! He rose, then, quite suddenly. He stared at Mary, who sat with head bowed. A strained, almost an awful, smile came palely to his lips. It is entirely pessible that this was no manifestation of fright, because Thomas was no coward; .on the other hand, an in- telligent five-year-old boy could have told accurately that young Mr. Henning was not about to burst into a song of f€joicing. He shook himself together, however, and tiptoed quickly to the knight. ‘“‘ Mary!” he hissed. “Yes? What? What is it?” Mary cried. . . “ Hush! Not soloud! Mary, Bill didn’t go on his train, after all!” The pallor of his smile penetrated Mary’s preoccupation. With several faint creaks, she rose suddenly, eyes dilafing. “What do you mean?” she breathed. ‘““ Where is he? How do you know—”’ From the door of Thomas’s own apart- ment, the door not twenty feet distant, sounded the same sharp, blood-curdling knock. It may be admitted that Thomas swallowed hard. | ‘“‘ Well, I think that’s Bill now!” said he. ’ CHAPTER XIX. THE CALLER. ULTIVATED intelligence, it is al- leged, constitutes the one sure’ pre- ventive of blind, unreasoning excite- ment and all its entailing disasters. Seek- Original froma =) lODOOLKK CO