The Argosy, April 1916 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

46 They saw Greenland leave the vicinity of the house and walk toward the creek. He was wiping his face with his handkerchief, which was red. “He tried to force his way in,” Beverly explained. ‘Dolly did nothing that was not right.” “T believe,” said Yale, when Greenland was out of sight, “that he stole that silver himself. He wasn’t over eager that morn- ing, except to have the marriage take place. Remember?”’ “T wonder.” : They saw no more of Greenland, and by noon had recovered from the effects of his visit. They ate dinner in the attic room, with the shutters open for air and light. “Let’s go outside,” suggested Beverly. “Do you feel like it? Dolly doesn’t mind carrying you down.” “T don’t mind being carried down. But a sudden alarm, such as we had this morn- ing, is disastrous. Your Dolly is as gentle as he can be, but picking up a man my size necessarily jars. I think I’ll take a snooze.” “All right, Mr. Owens. I'll help the old dame get supper, and we'll have a pleasant evening together. I wish we had some games to play.” “Td rather talk to you. I couldn’t see the pips on the ten of diamonds sitting across a table from your eyes.” ~ “Good-by, Mr. Owens. A sentimental husband is a thing to be deplored.” She left him;-and he threw himself on the bed. His foot hurt considerably, and shooting pains made his legs twitch. His head ached, too, and sleep came grudgingly. He had left his bed too soon. He lay some time thinking of the wretched fix he was in, and cursed the hour he landed in Utica. “No, that won’t do,” he said to himself. “In that case I would not’ have met Bev- -erly. Not to have met Beverly would be the same as never having lived. So beauti- ful, so good, so true. How could I—dolt— how could I ever have harbored a single suspicion against her—Mrs. Owens—my lovely provisional wife.” Smiling at the odd conceit, he dropped off to sleep, and woke in an hour much re- freshed. With the aid of a chair he hob- . bled to the window to see if Beverly was in sight. He loved to watch her unconscious grace when she was ignorant of his scrutiny. But Beverly was not so self-conscious that this made any difference. THE ARGOSY. But there was a difference now. With an armful of the last yellow flowers, her hat pushed back on her red-gold hair, ‘and talking vividly to one who seemed an ac- quaintance and a friend, Miss Wayne was swinging across the field diagonally from the road. She and her male companion were ap- proaching the house. Kenneth stared at this couple like a man who had received a death stroke. “My God!” he exclaimed within himself. “Ts she false, after all, or have all my con- jectures fallen into wreck? I am a fool, or I am betrayed by Beverly.” The man with whom Beverly was chat- ting gaily, who seemed to be feasting upon her marvelous beauty, was the man with short hair and the prison pallor. The two passed from Yale’s sight on their way to the farmhouse door. CHAPTER XXIII. “WHAT IS HE AFTER?” [t required considerable effort for Yale to compose himself sufficiently to form any plan of procedure. During the first moments of shock and renewed suspicion there seemed no possibility of any action on his part that would be of any avail. He could not escape. His method of lo- comotion, hobbling along with one foot al- most unable to sustain any weight, was not the gait that would take him safely away from that hiding place or enable him to find another. The only thing he could think of was to take a leaf out of Beverly’s book and play the spy. Anything was justifiable. First he looked around for some sign of Adolphus. But while Yale slept, and Bev- erly roamed, Adolphus had disappeared for reasons of his own. But, Yale reflected, the old dame was as good as any man and better than most. At least her presence would deter the intruder from offering Beverly any harm, if he had come for that purpose. There was, however, so little sign of this in his friendly manner that Yale’s wonder. grew to overwhelming and compelling pro- portions. He would see, listen, and learn for himself what it all meant. It was painful traveling, but he managed to leave his attic room, and descended the dark, narrow stairs to the bedroom floor. MICLOOOK (C@