Argosy, Vol. 85, No. 3 — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

AMERICANS me, my dear,” Hemmett said grimly. “We'll have to leave him here for the police, Steve. Come. Tell Ramon to cover him.” He led the way into the house and Girton followed, also decidedly jarred. Mr. Hemmett, having seen his family on the way up-stairs, returned to the tele- phone and demanded speech with the chief of detectives. ‘“That’s you, is it, Domez?” he in- quired. “ Well, this is Mr. Hemmett once more. Domez, a man just tried to kidnap my boy, and I shot him dead. I want his body out of here inside of fifteen minutes, and after that I’m at your ser- vice whenever you need: me. What? No, I understand that you’ll make things simple for me if I have witnesses, and I’ve got ’em. And another thing, Domez! I don’t think as much of you or this country as I did twenty-four hours ago, and I want to tell you candidly that if any one else tries anything of this kind on me, I’m going to hold you personally to account! Yes, that means just what it says.” He pushed away the instrument with a little shudder and rose. “Tl go and see how Carmen’s getting on, Steve,” he said. “ You attend to— the matter out there.” It had been attended to before Hem- mett returned—oddly attended to, for that matter. The motor patrol-wagon, bell-muffled, had whisked around from the hill police station and directly up the drive to the garage; with scant ceremony the misguided Guanaman had been loaded aboard. After that, the suave officer who accompanied the vehicle took Stephen Girton aside and, much as if a favor had been done to the force itself and to himself in particular, smilingly informed him that, since no attention had been attracted from the street, the matter might be considered closed! It was very, very puzzling! In Gua- nama, when a shooting has taken place, little police officials are wont to swarm over the entire landscape, waving hands, AFTER ALL. 381 taking notes and photographs, question- ing everybody, summoning everybody, threatening everybody, and _ assuring everybody that the criminal will not only be found but also drawn and quartered. This unfortunate affair, twenty minutes after the shot, might never have hap- pened. So Stephen Girton informed his friend when he reappeared frowning. “Ym sorry!’ Hemmett muttered. “ It gives me the shakes to think about it— but what else was there to do? The first thing that flashed on me was that this was more of Jones’s work, Steve—that he was taking the boy to hold for ransom, and—-I shot!” ‘“And the way the police have acted bears it out, too.” ““Perhaps—perhaps not. I’m more inclined to think that the man was operating on his own hook and—”: His teeth clicked together; he listened attentively. There was a_ disturbance outside and the chattering of Ramon’s excited tenor; and now steps came toward the room, and Barton, wild-eyed, hatless, burst in upon them. “Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” he cried. ‘“The—the devil is in this town! The -~—my wife, gentlemen! ”’ ‘“What’s happened?” quickly. | Barton tottered into a chair. ‘““ Kidnaped! Abducted!” he choked. ‘‘ She—she is gone!”’ “Gone where?” “Great God, man! Do you suppose I’d be sitting here if I knew that?” the American minister cried. ‘‘ She went for a ride with her friend, Mrs. Halliday— you know the woman? They stopped at one of the big shops down-town, Tremi- no’s, I believe, and Mrs. Halliday went in to get something. She was just coming out when—when it happened!” The shooting was quite forgotten! Girton on one side, Hemmett on the other, they came close to Barton as the latter choked on: ‘“It—it would seem—Mrs. Halliday was greatly excited—it would seem that Girton asked MICLOOOK C©