The Argosy, April 1916 — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

50 The tables were turned. Their former argument about leaving the Old Mill Farm had been reversed. But they remained. As night came on the weather grew chill, the sky was clouded, and there was every promise of a night for deeds that needed darkness. The old woman shuffled about getting their evening meal, and Adolphus was still absent. “Y wonder where our friend Dolly is,” said Beverly, when they sat at the table. ‘He has been gone a long time.”’ ‘“‘Went to some village, I suppose. He has been very faithful. Perhaps he needed a day off.” “T hope he won’t come back drunk.” By the time supper was over there was an evident change in the old woman. So far as a phlegmatic, leathery faced old crone could show nervousness, the mother of Dolly showed it. She kept looking at the dining-room clock, and running to the kitchen door, all the time muttering something in her native tongue. ‘She is anxious about Dolly,” said Bev- erly. “I know the signs.” “But what could happen to him?’’ asked Yale. “To my mind Adolphus is about as safe from attack as a man could be. He has no money, and wears no jewelry, and if his slight connection with us has awak- ened any desire to get rid of him in the minds of the robber gang, one blow of his ‘mighty fist would knock a dozen like our insurance appraiser silly.” “T know, but a pistol shot—or a stab in the back—”’ | “You are giving way to morbid fears. I don’t believe that at this time there is any murder intended. Just what the game is we'll have to wait and see. And the place to wait is here. My foot is getting con- stantly better, and if they give me a few more days I'll be able to kick ’em with it.” But Beverly, brave and calm as she had been in the presence of the appraiser, was now suffering from the reaction. But she was game. There could be no better pal for any man in an adventure. They sat at the table long after they had finished eating, and Yale smoked a pipe Adolphus had bought, with some tobacco, on his first trip to a village after Yale had eaten his first bowl of gruel. And it had been Beverly, not Yale, who had thought of this solace for the injured man. “Why doesn’t the old dame come and THE ARGOSY. clear away the dishes?” asked Beverly. “Do you hear her?” } “T don’t,” replied Yale, “but now you call attention to the tomblike silence of the kitchen, I recall that about ten minutes ago I heard the kitchen door open and shut.” ‘But she has been doing that ever since it got dark.” “True, Mrs. Owens. But after each visit to the door I heard her shuffling foot- steps. I remember now, that I did not hear that gentle step the last time, nor have I seen Dolly’s maternal ancestor.” “Goodness!” cried Beverly, jumping up from her chair. ‘Have we been deserted at the first blush of danger?” She hurried to the kitchen and returned with a white face, but not a frightened one. Distinctly, Mrs. Owens was angry. ““She’s gone! The old ape fas deserted us. I believe it was a put up job between them. First Dolly went, and now: she’s vanished. Her hat is gone and her old rab- bitskin cloak.” ‘She is probably anxious about her child,” suggested Yale, smoking contented- ly away. “Kenneth! Can it be that they are in league with the gang?” : “Hardly. Dolly doesn’t look like a rob- ber, and the old woman would be a very weak link in the chain.”’ ‘“‘A very strong one, J think. She knows how to hold her tongue—who can tell if she understands English or not? Spies have pretended not to understand before now.” Yale moved uneasily. “There is reason in what you say, Bev- erly. But you found them in a cottage of their own on the creek.” “Yes, but who knows if it is their own, or how long they have been there?” “An unanswerable question at present. But wasn’t it the old woman who gave you the ointment and liniment to rub on my foot, and the bandages?”’ “Through Dolly she gave me the lini- ment and the ointment, and the herb medi- cine we made you drink. Dolly told me, in a cumbersome sort of way, that his mother was an herb doctor. Witch, I call her now. The bandages I made myself by tearing one of your bed sheets into strips.” ‘So far, the old dame looms up with con- spicuous honesty ashine. And where did you get the key of this house?” __ “Oh, yes, I am forgetting that. Dolly and his mother, being the nearest neigh- cConmicoooks C@