Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

THE PICTURE ON THE WALL. “ Here’s the post-mark, ‘New York.’ He invented this poetry on the train and mailed it after he reached his destination. It’s marked March 4. That shows he must have gone straight there.” : ‘¢ Couldn’t hardly get there in that time, could he?” the first objected. “Ves, if he didn’t lose any time. was sure a bad lead to Lagville!”’ “ Look here,” the sergeant suddenly ad- dressed Bettie. ‘‘ We'll agree that he jumped to New York. But he was seen in town last night. Certain sure. Down on the curb. He’s in this house, and you came to meet him, And I believe he’s in this room.” He gave John’s door a kick that made it jump on its hinges. “Don’t you dare disturb that room,”’ Bettie cried with seeming indignation. She dropped her basket to squeeze herself be- tween them and the portal. ‘ You'll never go in there!” The murky corridor was filling with curi- ous children. Opened doors let sickly bars of light crisscross on the floor. Opposite Bettie a woman, formless and unconfined, with the lingering beauty of an overblown rose about to drop its petals, stared at the officers with dark hostility. Every face that peered under cobwebbed lintels scowled with hatred. Bettie appealed over the ser- geant’s shoulder to this woman whom she had never seen before. ‘Can he go in there, Mrs. Flannigan?”’ ‘God strike him dead if he does,” grated the woman.whose name was O’Conner. Bettie glared at the officer with the ex- pression of a wildcat. “‘ Can’t you leave even the dead alone?”’ Mrs. O’Conner shouted, taking this hint with swift subtlety: ‘A poor little mite laid out for her coffin, and the next of kin to her without a cent to pay for the coffin and all! A dead child that never had no chance That = o69 in this world at all. the cradle and now she can’t lay on her death-bed in peace!” ‘““Oh, the shame of it!” shrieked another woman. A wail went up from the cell-like chambers on either side. Bettie spoke to the men appeasingly. “But you never knew the truth of it, of course. You wouldn’t do as Mrs. Flanni- gan says if you had to cut off your right hands to keep from doing it. You're real men, I know that much.” The sergeant addressed his men gruffly: “Come along.” | “Thank God,” cried Mrs. O’Connor hys- terically, “‘ there’s a worse world than this for them that needs it!” At the head of the stairs they met a huge, unkempt fellow pounding laboriously upward. “Why, hello, Blearstead!”’ the sergeant spoke easily. ‘‘ Coming to call on your nephew ?”’ Blearstead stopped aghast, then shot a venomous glance at Bettie. The officer smiled. ‘Don’t blame the girl, she put up a plucky fight to get rid of us. I suppose the rumor that reached us about John Walters must have found its way to you. What do you think? Must be something in it, eh?”’ To his men he said: ‘‘ We’ll go back. I don’t think it right to leave little girls un- attended on their death-beds. We may have to take up a subscription for that coffin among ourselves.” He glanced ad- miringly at Bettie. ‘‘ You can go, girl. You’ve earned it.” 3 But Bettie stood motionless, her hand pressed to her side, her lips white. He drew his revolver and covered Blear- stead. “‘ But I want you to stay. This is to be a sort of family party.”’ He issued the crisp order to his men: “ Break open that door!” This story will be continued in next week’s issue of the ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, the consolidated title under which both magazines will appear hereafter as one. | FORTHCOMING EVENTS IN THE ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY WATCH FOR THE DATES— NEW SERIALS BY Charles Alden Seltzer, Edgar Rice Burroughs, E. J. Rath, Bertram Lebhar Gomichbooks She was hounded from (E(0)