Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 23, 1924 — page 90: what you’re looking at

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

248 indicated the few volumes on my desk. “Of course, one finds ‘ Dancing Dolls’ everywhere; but the poetry and essays! Ou avez-vous obtenu cette étoffe?” I knew just enough French to know that she was asking me where I got that stuff, and not thinking what deep water I was wading into, I showed her the author’s presentation inscription in “ Dancing Dolls.” “Yes,” she said, “I noticed the inscrip- tions in the other books, too. He’s a versatile writer.” “ec Very.” ** Even his handwriting is versatile.” “Ye—es. So you have been looking at my books?” “TI always look at books wherever I find them. I didn’t think you’d mind. You don’t, do you?” “Not at all.” After a short pause, in which I began to feel rather uncomfortable, Nell began again: “This Seumas Shayne is a very remark- able man. Have you known him long?” ‘““Oh, yes—quite a while.” ““ Seen him lately?” “No. He’s in Europe.” “T see. He sent these books to you?” “ Oh, yes, he sends me all his books. We were at school together.” “T noticed that one of the inscriptions is dated ‘New York, April third,’ only a month ago.” : “Oh, yes; he made a flying trip over here to see his play. Went back on the next steamer.” “7 see,” she said, and her smile seemed to me just a trifle ironical. ‘‘ There’s some- thing rather mysterious about him.” “Ts there?” I asked, getting a little nervous. ‘Well, he has been doing such wonder- ful work, and yet nobody seems to know anything about him. You're the first per- son I’ve met who claims to know him.” “Ves, but you see he has lived in Europe since—oh, most of his life.” ‘““T see. He certainly is a talented per- son.” She gave me a detective sort of look, and asked: ‘‘ How do you account for his writing three different hands?” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “Eccentricity of genius, I suppose,” 1 extemporized. “‘ He’s always done that; did it in school. I guess, being an artist, he can vary his handwriting just as he varies his style of painting, according to the mood of the moment. A lot of people do it. I do, myself. When I have time and take pains, I write like copper-plate; but my ordinary hand has driven many a printer to drink.” I knew that this explanation did not ex- plain, for, with the inscriptions in those three books in evidence, anyone could see that Seumas Shayne wrote three hands, no two of which resembled each other in any way. They were as unlike as the signature of John Hancock and the scrawl of Horace Greeley. I had hard work to conceal my nervousness, especially as Nell, the Lady Sleuth, seemed to be steaming up to ask more leading questions. Just in time the telephone rang, and fortunately it was for her. Apparently the call was from a constant reader of the Answers to the Love-lorn, some silly girl asking about a man with whom, I suppose, as in most cases, she had “been keeping company for some time.” My thoughts reverted to the girl I had seen in the art gallery, and I could not help contrasting her with the silly young women to whom Nell Teller’s department was a storehouse of wise counsel. It appeared, however, that this particular customer was a friend of Nell’s, and the portion of the conversation that I could hear was about as follows: “Yes, this is Miss Teller. Yes. This you, Leila? Where? No, I haven’t been there yet. My dear, I haven’t time. Worth Seeing; are they? Only ome? Rather a poor showing for a whole exhibition. Real- ly? What’s he like? Oh! as much as that! Stop raving. I don’t know him. No, I can’t come to-day, but call me up to-mor- row—no, the day after. I may have some- thing interesting to tell you. About him? Of course. Frightfully tiring? Yes, of’ course. Oh, that’s all right. Day after to-morrow. About this time. Good-by.” I arranged to vanish through the nearest doorway at the moment Nell hung up the receiver, for I apprehended that she would COME NOOLKS (C@)