The Argosy, Vol. 90 No. 1 — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

70 ment later she was back. She brought a small metal vial containing machine oil. He doctored the lock. The key turned smoothly. He pulled open the drawer. Before he could get a glimpse of the in- side, she darted her small hand into it and drew out a bit of folded paper. like a note. ‘* A love-letter! No wonder there’s been such a fuss! Did your father get it by mistake or did he take it from you?” His voice was nettling. It rasped and jangled through her. She was tired. She was anxious. And he was a nuisance. ‘ How silly!” she ejaculated scornfully. “But you don’t deny it!” he exclaimed, hoping she would. ‘It’s too absurd!” she scoffed, moving toward the door. “Going to return it to the fighting gentleman?” he asked. “I guess not!” He intercepted her. He seemed as big as a mountain to her as she was obliged to pause and look at him. ‘You can’t go out in the dark alone. You haven’t any right to be giving what belongs to your father to some one he doesn’t like. That man out there is a des- perado. He has a sharp knife. I don’t care if you are fond of him. He’s an un- principled sneak to get hold of anything in this fashion. I’ll take you over to the cottage. But you cannot leave this house alone!” “T’m not afraid,” she said in a small voice, still edging toward the door. “‘ Sit down!” he ordered. ‘“ And listen to me!” Her eyes went to the door. He stepped directly between her and it. She sat down as if she could do nothing else and accepted the situation. “Circumstances look very ugly. You may as well see how they appear to me. A man comes shooting out of my house. He uses a knife to be free of me. I come in and find you near the desk. You get hold of a bit of paper. It’s what he wanted. It may be something that belongs to me in the sense that it refers to interests of mine In your father’s charge. As master of this ranch, I demand that you either give me the paper or remain here till this can be It looked ~ THE ARGOSY. threshed out with your father here to de- fend my own and his interests—and, per- haps yours!” ‘But you mustn’t have this paper about you!” she exclaimed with apparent sin- cerity. “Why not?” he asked quickly. ‘¢ T—can’t tell you.” She saw the incredulous and scornful smile on his lips. She started to speak; then gave it up. “If you insist on being so senselessly stubborn, you'll have to make up your mind to stay here!” he said impatiently. “But I—I can’t spend the night here,” she faltered. “It isn’t as dangerous as meeting desper- adoes alone. I’m entirely harmless,” he replied. ‘‘ Anyway, your father will get anxious about you and come over.” ‘* He isn’t—” she began, then interrupted herself quickly as a thought came to her. “Tf you'll turn out the light, I can give you the paper.” She rose and ran to the large window that opened to the south. It was like a great eye watching miles and miles of desert and irrigated land. He mistook her intention. He thought she meant to jump out and escape from him. He rushed after her. “Stand back!”? she commanded so seri- ously that he minded. “I’m not going to jump out. Stand back and you'll see!” She. stood directly before the window. Then Ben understood. If the man were lurking about, he could command a view of most of the room from that window. She held up the bit of paper. She opened it, looked at it and nodded. Ben read the signal; she was showing the man that she had the right note. . Then she folded it and deliberately thrust it into the low-cut neck of her frock. ‘“‘T guess you’ve made it clear to him!” Ben fumed. ‘“May I go to my room?” she asked, turning wearily. “You may not!” ‘Really, I'd give it to you—if I dared,” she said, her blue eyes, soft and tired, raised to his. ‘Since you don’t dare,” he said quickly, oO Comicbooe S CO