The Argosy, Vol. 90 No. 1 — page 138: what you’re looking at

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

1382 “Fane Harlingood, eh?” continued Prince banteringly, as Welling took him by the arm. Jack interposed dictatorially. ‘““ Here—enough of that. Come with me,” he commanded, and tried to drag his prisoner off. Prince jerked his arm free, hurled about and impetuously addressed them all. “Look here!” he cried. ‘‘ Let’s quit this nonsense. This is where we get down on the level.” The mother had taken Fane by the arm and was passing out, but Prince’s next words halted her. ‘““T mean you, Mrs. Harlingood,” he shouted. In the anxiety of the two women to escape and the eagerness of Jack to get his prisoner out there was a collision at the door, where the four met and blocked the passage. “The man is crazy,” muttered the mother to Fane as she fairly shoved her daughter ahead of her. Fane bumped into the door and back into her mother, who was precipitated so close to Prince that she almost fell against his shackled arms. Withdrawing in evident disgust she found no escape except to go back into the library. Prince turned on them with his back to the door, with Jack ineffectually pulling at him. He had out- maneuvered them, but his good nature was still apparent. ‘‘Y want to say something to you, Mrs. Harlingood,” he continued. He nodded over toward the quondam “ butler.” “ Yes, and to you, too, Mr. Harlingood.”” Finally he included Arthur in his generalty. ‘‘ And you, too, Mr. Arthur Harlingood.” The son and daughter were speechless. The husband was not only speechless but he appeared also to be legless, for he sat suddenly as if shorn of his nether limbs. But not Mrs. Harlingood. She knew where to spot the mischief and she wasted no time in doing so, but swooped down on Una like a hawk. Una, cowering in the far corner, saw what was coming and, conscious of her guilt, drew herself up into the protecting arms of a huge chair and looked up defenseless at THE ARGOSY. the enemy, but with an unspoken plea for mercy in her eyes. ‘‘Una, you’ve been talking!” savagely accused Mrs. Harlingood, her eyes blazing, her hands clenched. ‘“ That’s what was going on in this room when you were alone with this creaturé.”’ She spoke the word “creature” as though it were the vilest name in the lan- guage. Jack, of whom it can hardly be said that he was sympathetic with the mother, listened from the door, rather amused. His hand was on his revolver and he had it in mind to draw it if the prisoner showed any further signs of disobedience, but his curi- osity got the better of him for the moment and he waited to watch developments. This left Prince free for the moment, and he hastened over to the corner where Una lay supine under the militant advance of her elderly cousin. He interposed his large bulk between the threatening forefinger of the late “‘ Riggs ” and the blanched face of the late “ cashier ” and offered diplomatic- ally: ‘‘ Pardon me, ma’am, but I hate to see you do an injustice.” Mrs. Harlingood looked at him stonily. He was beneath contempt and certainly it was beneath her dignity to bandy words with him. She turned away, resolving to bide her time; she would have that out with Una Devon yet, and read her a piece of her mind. Prince evidently divined this mental reso- lution, for he was quick to step back and block her way to the door again. “Don’t make a mistake, Mrs. Harlin- good,” and she squirmed more at this utter- ance of her right name than she did at his previous utterance of “ Riggs.” “I knew all the time.” Fane, with a sudden horrific apprehen- sion, rushed up, exclaiming: ‘* Knew all the time! Our right names?” ‘ Certainly,” replied Prince casually. This looked like an impeachment of Ar- thur and he felt forced to meet it directly by interposing: ‘ This is a devil of a joke.” “How could you know?” demanded Fane. comicbool< CO