Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

SHELBY’S HEAD-ON CRASH. was ready to abandon hope. He felt as if he must yell at Simpson either to open the closet door or to get out of the room. Simpson obligingly took the latter course. He stood two feet from the door for a mo- ment, and then Shelby heard him leave and go down the stairs. Apparently the woman had lain in wait for him. “Did you get what you wanted, sir?” Shelby heard her say. | “ T completed my search,” said Simpson, as a detective should. “‘ Well, I hope there won’t be any trouble about this,” she said. ‘“‘ There will be no trouble,” Simpson re- turned, ‘and I hope that you will bear in mind that you are not to mention my visit. If Osborne asks any questions, tell him you know nothing about a visitor te his rooms.” ‘““ Yes, sir,” she agreed. ‘“ I understand.” Shelby heard the front door opened and closed. For some time there was no sound from below stairs. Shelby began to think the woman had gone to bed, and got ready to escape from the house. But he had not reckoned with feminine curiosity. If he had been more experienced he would have known that sleep would not come to the woman till she had inves- tigated what Simpson had been doing in Osborne’s room. ae _ Shelby had risen from the trunk and had his hand on the door-knob when he heard her mounting the stairs on soft-shod feet. She came almost soundlessly along the hall and stepped into the room. “Tt is all off,” Shelby told himself. “*Here’s where a lady discovers a bur- glar.” As the woman stood within the hall door for a moment, evidently looking about, Shelby backed to the wall and hid behind an overcoat that was hanging there. He heard the woman utter an exclamation and move across the room. She let down the flap of the desk. ““ Of all things,” she said. “‘ He pried that drawer open. I wonder if he was a burglar?” Shelby heard the rustle of papers and knew that she was satisfying her curiosity by going through the papers which Simp- 79 son had lately examined. ‘hen the flap of the desk was closed again. She seemed to have a moment of inde- cision, and then she crossed the room and her hand fell on the knob of the closet door. She pushed the door open gingerly, and Shelby supposed she was peering inside. He didn’t see how she missed seeing his feet beneath the long overcoat. But the woman appeared not to be too inquisitive about the closet. It was dark in there, and she was already nervous. She had looked inside more as a matter of duty than as a matter of curiosity. She suddenly closed the door. Shelby heard her swish across the room and go into the hall. He opened the door and more clearly heard her descend the stairs. Down there a door was slammed loudly and Shelby thought he heard a key turned in the lock, though he could not be sure. He had had enough of hiding, however, and he emerged from the closet. The room was again in darkness, the woman having clicked off the light as she passed into the hall. Shelby tiptoed over to the desk in the corner and softly let down the flap. In the center of the desk there was a small drawer. Shelby opened it. He saw that there were slight marks on it near the lock. Simpson, he understood then, had forced the light lock open with his pocket-knife. The sound which Shelby had not been able to determine the nature of had been the opening of the knife. He had seen that knife in Simpson’s hands in the past. It was half a foot long, with large and heavy blade. There were papers in the drawer, but Shelby did not look at them. He closed the desk and stood looking about the room in the half light. He felt secure from in- terruption now, and he was intensely cu- rious to know why Silent Simpson had visited this room and what he had been looking for. What were the two different courses which the girl and Silent were following? Would there be a confluence of them? And if there was, how would it involve Osborne? The first-trick man had hinted COMmiclboo SS C©