Argosy, Vol. 85, No. 3 — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

AMERICANS “Tl tell Mrs. Hemmett that she’s going over to her father’s with the boy. Fernandez is alert enough when he’s roused, to danger, he can shoot straight, and there are at least two men servants over there who can be trusted implicitly —which is rare in this town just now! T’ll be down in about five minutes and we'll start.” Breathing hard, he climbed the stairs to the quiet upper floor. Now and then, even in Guanama, things grow too utterly outrageous—and this was surely one of the times. That the younger Edward Hemmett had all but fallen victim to the abductor was bad enough, but at least that stunt had bten nipped in the bud. When it came to abducting the middle-aged wife of the middle-aged and ostensibly impor- tant American minister, however, in the Open business street—yes, that was carrying the thing altogether too far. Mr. Hemmett paused at his room to slip a fresh box of cartridges into his pocket, paused at Girton’s room to secure that gentleman’s automatic, and _ then entered his wife’s bedroom. Carmen’s maid sat there, half asleep, as usual, while the boy, a little paler but even now settled down to a picture-book, sat on the floor beside her. ‘The sefiora?’”? Hemmett said briefly. ‘“In the boudoir, senor.” The senora’s husband scowled about the room. “ Hasn’t she finished dressing for dinner?” “Not yet, sefior. She is but half dressed,” the maid droned. “ She stepped into the boudoir for her diamond comb, I think. She is still there.” “ Still, eh? How long has she been there?”’ “These fifteen minutes, senor,” the maid informed him placidly. Mr. Hemmett crossed to the closed door and tapped it briskly. There was no response. He tapped again. Still no sound came from beyond the portal. ‘“‘ Carmen!” called Hemmett. AFTER ALL. 383 Only silence answered him. And his skin crawled suddenly; he could feel his hair rising. Not, of course, that anything could have happened to Carmen, up- stairs in her own home, but— Carmen’s husband opened the door suddenly and stepped into the: boudoir. It was empty! Over there a broken chair lay in three pieces upon the floor—and over there was one of Carmen’s huge cut-glass toilet- water bottles, upside down in the corner and unbroken. Yes, and here was the torn fragment of a silk petticoat, and here again was one of the combs she had worn that after- noon, trampled to bits! And the door of the. big closet was open, and several garments were upon the floor, pitched about in wildest confusion, as if a violent struggle had drawn them from their hangers. And the farther door, which led to the corridor and the back stairs, stood wide open! But of Carmen Hemmett herself there was no sign at all! CHAPTER XI. IS ANY ONE SAFE? ONCE upon a time, in a railroad camp just east of the Rockies, the seven- foot camp bully had sought to impress his will upon Edward Hemmett, who chanced to be in charge. They still talk about the battle out that way, as one of the liveliest two-man affairs ever staged; when it was finally over friends had carried the big man down to the creek and bathed his brow for something like an hour before he returned to life—but at one period the outcome had been in doubt, for the giant’s fist had landed directly between Edward Hemmett’s two eyes. As concerned Mr. Hemmett, the entire universe had bounced upward about three inches and settled back again with a soul-shaking slam—and, for the second time in his life, he experienced the same sensation ashe stood in the center of Carmen’s boudoir! DOOK AMUC C©