Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 23, 1924 — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

THE COLLISION. “J mean that you’re not wanted about here, and the sooner you get off the grounds the better.” “But I was just studying the play of the sunlight on the water. Have you ever no- ticed the play of sunlight on the water?” ‘“ All I notice is that you’re trespassing, young feller; and if you don’t get off these grounds in a ’urry, Ill put you off.” The butler regarded this assertion for a mo- ment. ‘As sure as my name’s Cowper,” he added. ° “Cowper? You amaze me. Not the poet?” This was capping injury with insult. It was more than Cowper could stand. ““ Come on!” he cried, and dashed at the heinous young man. I have said that Drayton’s conversation was more than Cowper could stand. Im- mediately upon his rush at the young man, however, it may be said that Cowper ca- pitulated in this respect. He summarily ceased to stand. It is true he made an ef- fort to do so, but that effort was a failure. The young caller, it seemed, did not like being rushed; and also he had evidently decided upon moving forward at precisely the same moment as Cowper made his on- set. The result was that Cowper went backward. He went backward as far as the very brim of the fountain pool, and it was there that he made his most deter- mined effort to stand. It was there, also, that he failed. He subsided with a cry which had the grotesque quality of a cheer, into the three feet of water, and he hit the water flat. The intruder hastened his steps there- upon toward his waiting car, and the ab- surd little machine was heard to buzz off down the driveway at precisely the same moment as Cowper, again upon the brim of the pool, disentangled the last clinging stalk of water lily from his melancholy lock of hair. VIll. Marion Ray drove down to the village. That is, she had Brent drive her down. In that state of mind which the events of the last few days had engendered in her, she could not have trusted herself to drive the 7 197 neat sports model which was the car she usually took to town. She felt that she would deliberately, and with malice afore- thought, have chased every human being she met to the side of the road and run over it. And this she could not bring her- self to do. It was not fair to the children, she reflected. All of which should give the reader an idea of the state, as it is called, of Marion’s mind. Arriving in the village, it was her first intention to visit the headquarters of the village police and set the august machinery of the Jaw upon an inquiry into the affairs of Mr. George Drayton; but seen from the main street the machinery of the village law did not seem particularly august. Indeed, as personified in the appearance of Police Chief Elisha Dudberry, it seemed little short of disreputable. Elisha Dudberry included the entire po- lice force of Northover village. Elisha was in himself the majesty of the law; and he was not majestic. He was not even fat. It appeared as though he had been once, but the flesh having vanished, a plethora of skin had been left to hang roomily about his shrunken person, and drape itself in unbeautiful dewlaps about his jaw, in pouches under his self important eyes, in furls upon his brow. And Elisha’s nose was red. Marion regarded him with intense dis- favor as Brent whisked the car to an im- pressive stop at the steps of Elisha’s office. The law’s majesty sat on those steps and returned Marion’s gaze with the misan- thropic pessimism of a bloodhound that had swallowed a ball of twine. “Are you the chief of police?” she in- quired. Elisha considered this manifestation of ignorance ungraciously. “You’re one of them city people,” he said accusatively. Marion frowned. “My name is Miss Ray,” she pointed out to him. ““ Never heard it,” he answered. ‘‘ What you want with the police force?” : ‘‘ Ordinary politeness,” replied Marion. He grinned, causing horrible disturbances of his draperies. (E00) .WOOKS (E@) = |