Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 25, 1924 — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

42 ARGOSY-ALLSTOGRY WEEKLY. a magnolia tree in the hospital yard. Sud- denly she turned to me, with dilating, terri- fied eyes. “Tf that man should die!” “J think he’s going to pull through,” I said vigorously. “ But they’re taking so long!” “Finding bullets isn’t easy,” I said. & Dr. Rawlins is one of the best surgeons in Florida. And Dimlock has the constitu- tion of a horse. He'll pull through!” Suzanne had torn the handkerchief in her hands into shreds. She was twisting and untwisting it now about one thumb. She relaxed slightly and settled back with a weary sigh. “We made a great mistake,” she said huskily, “in not waiting for Phil to finish his sentence. Even if that man recovers, things will be terribly complicated, won’t they?” “You can depend on Gene and me,” I said brusquely, “ to the limit.” Her eyes softened. ‘“ Poor Gene!” she whispered. ‘‘ How can he help any one? Well, I must make plans, mustn’t I?” “Tf Gene has anything to say about it,” I said, “ you’ll have your life plans cut out for you by to-morrow night.” Suzanne slumped down on the sofa. “ The sister of men who—who may go on trial for murder?” she whispered. “You know what Gene would say to that,” I said sternly. “Yes, I know. He has a great future, and I am not going to spoil it. Oh, isn’t life rotten! Wasn’t it cruel—the way those surveyors simply ruined everything? With that new road contract and his brick plant already to be put up, he would have been successful. I—I could help Gene, if my brothers would only let me, if they didn’t dislike him so. There’s coquina rock on our land, but they won’t let him have it on any terms.” I said unsteadily: “ How long have you known this?” “ Just a few days.” * Does Gene know?” | ‘“What’s the use of telling him? They won’t let him have it. I think they’d starve rather than let him have it. They wanted him to go away. They were afraid of los- Well, they needn’t have worried. She was ing me. No, I will never marry Gene.” silent, thinking, some seconds. “T am going away,” she announced. “ I am going to change my name and start life all over in some new place.” I said nothing, but I was glad that Su- zanne had at least not lost her wonderful ability to be romantic no matter how trying the circumstances. She turned: to me again and gasped: “Buck! If that man should die! What would happen to Phil and Bert? Honestly, don’t you think a jury would be kind, after they’d heard the story? Don’t you think—” Dr. Rawlins entered the waiting room with a serious mouth and tired eyes. Su- zanne sprang up, with fists gripped at sides. “Ts he dead?” she wailed. The surgeon shook his head. quite.” “Ts he—going to die?” And Dr. Rawlins replied: “I can’t say for sure. The bullet did not touch his heart, but it clipped the edge of one lung. We found it lodged under a rib near the back- bone. My only hope is the man’s tremen- dous vitality. He may live for hours; he may die before night. By this time to- morrow, if he is still alive we can begin to hope—perhaps!”’ “You know what will happen to my brothers,” Suzanne panted, “if he should die!” * Not “Yes, Miss Pomeroy, I know; and you © can be sure that no effort will be spared to save him.” Outside the hospital, on the way to where my flivver was parked, I asked Suzanne what she would do meanwhile: “Tll go home, of course. I don’t want to be near people. I—I hate people!” I told her I didn’t like the idea of her staying in that house alone. “ You’d better put up at some hotel, for to-night at least.” But Suzanne would not stay in Majolica. The hospital would telephone me at Vingo if—if anything happened, and I could drive over and notify her at once. So we drove back to Vingo. Gene Bantry was waiting on the porch COMMICLOOOkKS (C@)