Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 4, 1922 — page 163: what you’re looking at

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

DOUBLES AND QUITS. I get about amongst the people and they confide in me. Witcham’s a prosperous lit- tle place and all that, but there’s still a great deal of ignorance and superstition. Particularly superstition. There’s been a rumor that Marshall’s ghost was seen in the town one night. It seems ‘it’ went to his old home and inquired for his wife. It was tall and emaciated looking, and wore a beard.” ‘Dick Marshall never had a beard, but perhaps his ghost grew one,” scoffed Ag- new. “ That’s as it may be. But there are un- pleasant murmurings against the new mayor and his wife. It’s just an under- current as yet. Marshall’s ghost is sup- posed to have gone from Mount Street to a public house—”’ “A good place for spirits,” interrupted Agnew, who was apt to wear a certain form of joke rather thin. ‘“ And then some one saw him or ‘ it,’ as the people say, in Witcham Mere, haunt- ing Pinehurst that same night. And later the ghost was seen striding bareheaded over the downs in the direction of Loughly. In each case the description tallies — a tall, bearded man, with wild eyes and a small satchel. I’ll tell you what night it was— the night of the Tremletts’ famous dinner- party, early in October, just after Mr. Tremlett had been elected mayor.” “ Well,’’ Agnew said easily, ‘“ there’s just about as much in this ghost story as in Els- peth McQueen’s fairy tale. A small town is the limit for comic rumors. I wonder you listen to them—”’ “ And ”—Mr. Powell went on, frowning at the interruption—‘ last Sunday, a sub- stitute being found for our church here, [ was able to accept an invitation to take the morning service at Quentin Prison. After- ward I lunched with the Governor and asked him a few discreet questions. He remembered Marshall very well; said the poor chap had been a regular hero all ) through the epidemic, and that he had, as . a matter of fact, been reported as dead. He was discharged on the tenth of Octo- ber. Since then the Governor said there had been several inquiries for him. Mr. Peter Tremlett himself had motored to 473 Quentin the very next day. The Governor hadn’t the vaguest idea that our new mayor was married to the former Mrs. Marshall. Another inquiry came from a doctor in London. He telephoned to Quentin. He ‘was one of those two brave students who volunteered to help during the epidemic, and recently he’s taken his full degree. Well, this doctor had got very friendly with Marshall. They’d worked together all through the worst of the siege and incident- ally saved each other’s lives, according to the Governor. I hope I’m not boring you, Mr. Agnew?” . “For the love of Heaven, man—go on! Do I look bored?” i “No, no-—only myself, I feel there must be some mistake if ‘*Go on—what else?” Agnew said im- patiently. “Only that this doctor—lI’ve forgotten his name—said he particularly wanted to get into touch with Marshall, because Mar- shall’s wife was in London. She was wild- ly anxious to see her husband. And that’s all, I’m afraid. The Governor couldn’t help him, because Marshall had left. Gone back to Witcham, the Governor supposed.”’ If this tale were true—and who could doubt that ingenuous parson—then there might be even more in it than actually met the eye. On the tenth of October, or certainly a day or so later, Marshall’s wife was in London. In the old days Will Agnew had known Amy fairly well. He had been one of her many admirers, but when she—as he sup- posed—became Mrs. Peter Tremlett, she’ had actually cut him dead one day when they passed in the street. He supposed that her newly attained greatness had gone to her head, but he bore Mrs. Tremlett no particular malice for the slight, particular- ly since he had both Tremlett’s and Mrs. Dundas’s-business affairs in his care. But now he began to wonder. The thing that tripped them all up, even Elspeth, was the absolute impossibility of accounting for another woman, the double of Amy, being here in Amy’s place. Such a thing could not be. ‘Well, sir, what do you make of it?” COmiclbooks.Gonn