Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 25, 1924 — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

64 bodily into a car. Chairs were overset, table covers dragged to the floor: every- where there were signs of a struggle. But there was nothing to show where the gang had taken her. To some retreat where Valdez could compel her to submit, of course. But where? He might have a dozen haunts for just such purposes. He was rich and had a notorious fondness for women. ‘“Why didn’t I choke the life out of that yellow brute when I had my hands on him!” groaned George. Harbison and his wife were busy trying to help Signora’ Bori and George spoke with forced calm, though his hands were trem- bling with rage and agitation. “You two look after the old lady. I’m going to comb this town till I find Margot. If I don’t find my wife, Vil run down Valdez. This time I’ll croak him, by God!” Before his friends could answer he had dashed out of the room and jumped into the waiting taxi. “To Pedro Valdez’ house,” he cried. ‘Which one?” ‘How many houses does he own?” The chauffeur shrugged. “I don’t know now many, but he has one in town and a fine big place up in the hills.” ‘““Go to the town house first!” ‘“T think you are more likely to find him at the villa. There’s a party going on there to-night.” “How do you knpwe”’ The chauffeur had already started the car on the winding hill road. “I ought to know,” he retorted. ‘“‘I took some guests up there an hour ago. French ladies!” he added with a chuckle. ‘ “Burn up the road!” commanded George and the car continued to climb and climb. Soon the scattering town houses were left behind and the road swung about hillsides dark with tropical foliage. Occasionally the white walls of a villa showed where some estate overlooked the sea, but none of them had a sign of life and until at a turn of the road a pretentious structure, like a small exposition building, appeared, blazing with lights from every window. ‘“ That’s the place,” said the driver. “Good! Drop me at the gate! Turn ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. the car and have the engine going. When I come back we’re apt to be in a hurry!” George leaped from the car, ran across the roadway and dashed through the shrub- bery toward the house. With one hand he touched the gun that Bori had given him to keep it from jolting out of his pocket. From the open windows came the noise of shrill laughter and the blare of jazz. The party was in full swing! The intruder who had come to break up Valdez’ party moved cautiously about the grounds, dodging the shafts of light that poured from the windows, and took shelter in the bushes. The little summer house of- fered a hiding place where he could look in upon the ballroom from a higher level. As he hurriedly sprang into this vine-shadowed refuge, there was a faint feminine shriek, a man’s growling curse, and two figures hastily scuttled out the other side. George was no less startled than the lovers, but he held his ground. By standing on a bench he could look squarely into the broad ballroom and took in at a glance the interior that had been copied from Monte Carlo. The walls were profusely decorated with gilt; great chandeliers hung from the ceil- ing and cast their light on theatrical looking velvet curtains, and the gilt tables and chairs that were arranged about the wall. At intervals stood buffets piled high with elaborate dishes of fruit and pastry and trays of glasses. Bottles of wine and cool- ers of champagne were abundantly spp- plied, and the waiters in red plush and white silk stockings perspired freely as they pulled corks and filled glasses for the thirsty guests. But in contrast to this tawdry magnifi- cence the revellers looked like a moonlight chowder party at some tough beach, or an outing of the Stick-up Men’s Protective As- sociation. _ George wondered at this but when he saw a new arrival in evening clothes throw off his coat and vest and begin to pull on some old clothes rummaged from the ser- vants’ quarters, he understood. Pedro Valdez had taken a sudden fancy to have a roughneck party, and it was an easy mat- ter to improvise suitable costumes. The men had jammed old felt hats or 4A COMMICLOOOKS Con