The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 225: what you’re looking at

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

WIZARD OR CROOK. 21) had time, I should ask you to see if my assertions were not absolutely correct. As it is, however, you will have to take my word for the situation; for time presses. ““So now, Miss Vorhees,” reverting to his original inquiry—‘ let me have the facts, please, relative to your de- parture from home. The police merely know that you disappeared some three or four weeks ago without apparent cause, and have consequently been working on the theory of an ab- duction.” This was surely a straight enough question, but the girl was so diffident and reserved in her replies that it re- quired several more interrogatories and a good deal of prompting from Miss Felix before the facts finally came to light. | Boiled dowh, however, and freed from all extraneous matter, the story appeared to be in its essential elements the old one of two parents trying to force their child into an uncongenial Marriage. There was a young architect and builder named Glenn McKeon it seemed whom the father and mother had set their hearts upon as a son-in-law. The daughter had resolutely pro- tested against the match, and had sought in every way to flout and dis- courage the young man; but McKeon was a persistent suitor, and despite her struggles, she saw herself being stead- ily forced under the stress of parental influence toward the altar. Then in her desperation the idea had struck her that she might achieve inde- pendence by writing a novel. ‘That was the secret of her association with Sylvia Felix, for, casting about to ob- tain a good typist and secretary, some b one had recommended the Tenallytown. girl, and their purely business relations at the start soon ripened into those of confidence and friendship. For months the millionaire’s daugh- ter labored over her literary task, go- ing secretly every day to Cousin Syl- via’s humble lodgings to revise, and amend, and polish what she had al- ready written, until at last the novel was finished. But, alas, the success on which its author had so glowingly bargained, failed to come. No publisher could be found even to consider it: their readers without a dissenting voice pro- claimed it hopeless. There seemed nothing left for Ethel but to yield to ‘her parents’ desires and accept Mc- Keon. At this juncture, though, it hap- pened that Miss Felix had the choice of two positions open to her, one -as secretary to a gouty old widower up at New Rochelle, and the other as li- brarian to Darius Poe. Considerations of salary prompting her to take up with the out-of-town of- fer, the bright suggestion came that her friend might find surcease from her pressing difficulties, and possibly work out a solution to them by accepting in her place the job with the old book- lover. No other cause existed for Ethel’s leaving home, both girls averred, save McKeon alone. Except on this one point, her father and mother were in- dulgent to her every. whim, and she was devotedly attached to them. In- deed, she confessed, that it had almost broken her heart not to be able to send them some message to relieve their anxiety. Yet she had feared to do so, lest it might lead in some way to her being taken back and forced to marry Mc- Keon; and that was something, she tearfully protested, that she would not, could not, and should not do. “McKeon? McKeon?” muttered Ramsdell thoughtfully, when the diffuse recital was finally ended. ‘“‘ Where have I heard that fellow’s name, or seen some of his work?” “You wouldn’t have to look very far for the latter,” broke in Miss Vor- hees. ‘“ All you have to do is turn to the window behind you, for he built that ugly old library across the street.” ‘““What?” Ramsdell sprang to his feet cComicbooks CO