Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 25, 1924 — page 73: what you’re looking at

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

THE DANCING DOLL. 63 “No? Well it’s a good thing for her. Who is her manager?” ‘““T am,” said George. ‘‘ She’s my wife!” “Your wife? Congratulations! You certainly have come up in the world. Own- er of a swell café and married to the clever- est little dancer I’ve seen for years!” Mrs. Harbison added her gushing con- gratulations, but her husband continued: “‘ Well, what about it? I wasn’t bluffing about that contract—though I wouldn’t have said so much if I’d known I was talk- ing to her manager. Why don’t you turn over your business to your partner and take your wife to New York? I can put her across big!” “T don’t think I can go. Not just yet. But perhaps Margot will take up your offer.” ‘She will if she cares for money. Ill give her a contract for seven hundred and fifty dollars a week to start with—and raise it to a thousand a week if she goes as good as I expect.” ‘When are you leaving?” asked George. “To-morrow at noon.” “ T’ll talk to her about it to-night. We'll have to settle it pretty quick. Suppose you come out to the house with me right now.” “Vou’d better come along to New York with us, Mr. Marcanda,” said Lily Harbi- son. “I don’t see how you can be separated from such a wife! Why, she’s the daintiest little creature I ever saw. She’s wonderful! She must be or Jim wouldn’t rave over her. He’s usually hard boiled when it comes to artists.” “T know. But there are reasons why I would just as soon have her go to New York without me.” George’s smile was a little wry as he recalled those reasons to himself. This seemed like the best way out. Margot would be protected-in New York, safe from the schemes and violence of Pedro Valdez. What is more, she would be re- moved from the husband she had married but did not love. George felt that he could not stand it to see this girl constantly, to know that she was legally his but that he could not possess her. Perhaps, after a separation she would begin to care for him! Might ask him to join her! ‘“Let’s take a taxi right now. We can be there in ten minutes!” George nodded to Bori as they passed out of the café and a few minutes later the party had reached the villa set back in its garden. George told the chauffeur to wait. The house was dark. There was no re- sponse to their knock and when George finally tried the door he was astonished to find that it swung open easily It was not even latched. With a sinking heart he switched on the lights and went from room to room calling, ‘“* Margot! Margot!” at the top of his voice. But there was no answer! At last he wrenched open a closet door and saw a limp heap of rags lying on the floor. He shook it wildly and disclosed the unconscious features of Signora Bori. She had been left there stunned. But Margot was gone! CHAPTER XVI. AT VALDEZ’ PARTY. VIDENTLY the old signora had been E. stunned, and thrown carelessly out of the way with a door slammed upon her. When they brought her out and laid her on a couch, she was unable to speak, only gazed about helplessly with drooping eyes, and her head rolled as if she had lost all contro! of her muscles. George found some bai while Lily Harbison loosened the old lady’s clothing, but even after a glass of spirits had been poured down her throat, Signora Bori could only mumble incoherently. Her phrases came from her withered throat like the rav- ings of a nightmare. “Don’t! Don’t hit me! Oh my poor lamb! They are carrying her away! Dio mio!—No, no, no! Don’t strike me!” George realized that the worst had hap- pened. A gang of Valdez’ thugs had in- vaded the place. They must have knocked the old woman on the head as callously as if she were a troublesome watchdog. As for Margot! George shuddered at the thought of what she had suffered. The ruffians must have tied her and thrown her COMMICLOOOKS CO)