Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 16, 1921 — page 118: what you’re looking at

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

THE TEMPTING TANGLE. Mrs. Ferintosh, from Ruth, from a cloud of witnesses—her conclusion throughout re- mained the same. This man was no killer, no thief, and not the man to build his fortune on a corner-stone of blood-money. Next morning the nurse was struck by something unusual in the atmosphere of Ferintosh House. She had a vague feeling that something vital was missing; the feel- ing puzzled her. Then she remembered that it was a cou- ple of days, if not more, since she had seen Tripp. So she made inquiries of Mrs. Ferintosh. Tripp, it seemed, had left for the west again, pursuing some new clue. Mrs. Ferintosh viewed the situation with her inevitable serenity. She had no doubt that this time Mr. Tripp would make im- portant discoveries. Glory Adair talked a long time with Mrs. Ferintosh. She had a vague idea that if She talked long enough and innocently enough, Mrs. Ferintosh must inevitably let drop at least a few words regarding Tripp’s latest discoveries. But it would seem that Tripp had not taken her into his confi- dence. Mrs. Ferintosh eventually remembered a letter that had come for her half an hour before. Glory Adair had almost forgotten that she had advertised in a.Detroit paper as well as the one at Toronto. She had long since given up hope of any replies. But this letter came from Detroit. It concerned Fagg, of course; but she ex- pected nothing new. This would be merely the same old story she had got from EIli- cott, and later from Cassilis. There were doubtless many people in Detroit who vaguely remembered the itinerant photog- rapher from the Bothwell days. So she opened the envelope quite without hope, and found a surprising message. - Tom Fagg himself was in Detroit. Or, at least, a man named Fagg was, it ap- peared, staying at a rooming-house on Jef- ferson Avenue. P. R. Kennedy, evidently a fellow roomer, described Fagg as a quiet, reticent man with a gray beard, who seemed to work at some distance from the house, 109 since he was away all day long. Evidently a mechanic, though he made no confi- dences. Here was a new turn of events. Tom Fagg, supposed to have been murdered at Bothwell twenty-five years ago, still alive, only a couple of hours’ distance away from Carisford, and pursuing a quiet, inconspic- uous way. Glory Adair refused to believe that this was the same man. After what Ellicott, the Bothwell paper, the county authorities, and finally Peter Cassilis himself had told her, the thing was incredible. Nevertheless, she took de next train for Detroit. She had no difficulty in finding the Jef- ferson Avenue rooming-house. There, how- ever, her quest abruptly ended. The man named Fagg had left the place two days before. The disappointed nurse questioned the landlady. More than that, she remained till nightfall and interviewed Kennedy, the man who had written her regarding Fagg. Kennedy was a shifty-eyed young fellow, and Glory was at first disposed to suspect that he had been angling for a possible re- ward. But further questioning of the land- lady, her husband, and some of the other roomers indicated that Kennedy was actual- ly telling the truth; that a man named Fage had actually been a roomer there. “Tom Fagg?” she asked again. _ As to that there was no certainty. This man received no mail; he came and went quietly, and minded his own business; he was away for days at a time, and when there kept to his room and spoke to no one. Glory Adair asked to see the room. She had fancied she might discern some of the telltale stains that betokened the. photog- rapher. But the room offered no clue to its former occupant’s identity. Fagg, thus unexpectedly found, had as unexpectedly lost himself. She paid the shifty-eyed young man out of her own purse a reward large enough to encourage him to keep his eyes open and to write her promptly in case Fagg reap- peared. But her next morning’s inquiries of the policeman on that particular beat Go 9)(0)6) S (C@ S|