Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 4 — page 142: what you’re looking at

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

612 Margery was screaming frantically. An- gela Starr, pushed aside, was cowering against the wall, and it is to be remembered that Angela had known her father for some years and knew when to cower. Woodbury person, who was apparently tak- ing the simplest way out by strangling in- conspicuously, tugged at her throat and gasped. And now Margery Poole, her arms around his neck, had thrown herself bodily upon her husband. “Don’t! Don’t shoot!’’ she shrieked. You’re wrong—wrong! He’s innocent! He never in all his life—” ‘Get away, Margery!” Poole panted, as he tore her loose and swung her off at arm’s length. “It runs in the family, I suppose, but—stay away, I tell you!” “Tl never stay away!” Margery cried. ‘‘If he shoots you, he’ll shoot me, too!” She struggled vainly—and George Dare came back to life. Geraldine had been entirely wrong in that matter of cowardice; George may have wished to flee, some minutes back, but he did not wish to flee now. The weirdest calm of all his days had come upon George. It was actually happening before his eyes—all of it, and the responsibility for all of it was his own. Poor old Poole stood on the threshold of a better world because of George. Mar- gery was about to become a widow, because of George! And what did life hold for George him- self? His strangely placid brain rushed on, surveying the future. a magic wand, his wonderful job had van- ished; that, at the best, meant a new start in life; it meant that the exquisite little apartment would have to go at once, and that they would disappear into a cheap little flat somewhere while George went out and hunted work! And it meant humiliation and suffering, too, for Geraldine—while, with George entirely out of the way, there would be a matter of twenty thousand dol- lars in insurance to tide over her first grief; and ladies whose husbands have been slain by millionaires in the heat. of blind fury have a wonderful prospect of collecting a good many times twenty thousand dollars, later on. The | As at the wave of | THE ARGOSY. These rather astonishing thoughts shot: lucidly through George’s mind; they came to their logical conclusion, and George stepped out quickly and thrust himself squarely in front of Dr. Poole. ‘“Tt’s my fault—all of it!” he snapped. “Tf anybody nas to take that dose, give it to me!”’ ‘‘ Stand where you are and you'll get it!”’ said Starr, and his small, dangerous smile told in full George’s utter unimportance as a moral or a physical bullet-stopping force. And now Starr had clicked back the hammer with a horrible little “ tick ” and had sent the hand aloft. And now it was coming down again, swiftly and quite in- exorably! CHAPTER XIV. CONSEQUENCES. ANOTHER second, George fancied, and it would be over.. He smiled at Ger- aldine; he noted that Geraldine was strug- gling hard to move and was still unable to budge one inch from where she stood. ‘Well, it was a queer, queer finish for a young man whose life had started so well. George shook his head and caught his breath as he gazed into the muzzle of the gun. Then he folded his arms and smiled, for Starr was sighting along the barrel of his artillery. “ Duck, Arthur!” rifice! . Mr. Starr’s thick finger had tightened on the trigger. Mr. Starr, even before this, had passed into the murderer class, and George, of necessity, must be dead—al- though the very curious thing was that he did not feel dead at all. His steady, blank stare seemed still to be upon that yawning muzzle, and—yes, Starr had not fired after all! Starr, with an odd squint, was listen- ing intently; and now that one came to heed such minor things there was a good deal to be heard, outdoors! , At no great distance, several people seemed to be shouting violently. There were muffled’ thuds—quick, hard thuds, and more yells: There was a splash, tod, and then a laugh and a distant: yelled the human sac- mM (S| Q) NOOLK