Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 1, 1922 — page 61: what you’re looking at

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

THE FUR CLOAK. She threw back her pretty head; she opened her pretty mouth widely. “Help!” screamed Miss Carson; and again: “Help! And if the rafters had rung with the first two words, they fairly swayed in her third: “ Help!” The chauffeur’s hand, clean or otherwise, closed over her mouth. The chauffeur was breathing hard, too; the dark man seemed more than a little perturbed. Eyes dilating, every muscle tense, he listened, second after second; then: “ Hear anybody coming, Nick?” he asked “Tf there ain’t, they’re all dead withm a mile!” the footman sn ‘ “Open the door and listen! Make it snappy!” The key rasped; the outer door, invisible to Miss Carson, creaked open—and there was another breathless little pause. “Well, at that, I guess it got by that time,” the footman reported, very relteved- ly, as the latch clicked again. ‘ There ain’t a sound of anybody out there.” “ Take another stab at that, an’ ’H knock you so cold you won’t come around again inside of a week, y’ little rat!” the slightly pallid chauffeur puffed charmingly, and re- laxed his grip; and then he lowered his voice to a rumble that should have terrified even a strong man: “ That’s on the level, kid! Too much is enough—get that!” Again he extended his great palm sig- nificantly—it seemed to be a pet gesture of his—but' Miss Carson merely smiled up at him. This last minute or so she had gained very pleasant confirmation of recent words which, coming so faintly through the door, might well have been misunderstood, and that to her considerable detriment. Even in the recent feverish moments when a little roughness might have been expected in spite of everything the chauffeur’s hands had never really gripped her forcefully enough to bruise; he had; indeed, restrained her with remarkable gentleness. Nor, whatever the savage inclination in his eye, was the little dark man moving to- ward her even now. Orders very evidently were orders, whoever had issued them; the trio were bound hard and fast to the propo- Sol sition of treating the physical part of her with the utmost consideration. So Miss Carson straightened her forty dollars’ worth of hat and smiled at the dark man, too. ‘““T can scream?” she asked archly. “Tl tell the whole world you can scream!’ the person answered quickly, pleadingly almost. ‘Only can it, lady! Can it and—” “You mean, stop with that one little Scream?” ée Yes! 33 “ Couldn’t think of it,” said Myra, and expanded her chest. “That one didn’t bring help, and I can do ever so much bet- ter, anyway. I really am trying to bring help, you know,” she explained. “I wasn’t doing it just to be playful. So—” Her lips parted. The dark man darted at her. “Wait, lady! West!’ he cried. “ Once is enough for that! Don’t try it again— please don’t! Joe ll only have to choke you off and—and—lady, won’t you please sit down and let’s talk sensibly?” ' “ About letting me out of here?” ““No. We can’t let you out or—’” “Well, that’s the only topic I care to discuss, sensibly or otherwise,” Miss Carson said, and remained standing. The pair were gazing at one another, worry and perplexity in their eyes. Very apparently she was not behaving as a young woman should have behaved under the cir- cumstances—which was well, but which tended in no way to extricate her from the mess. Miss Carson, frowning, was visited by inspiration. “‘ Mr.—er—Ramsey—father, that is,” she began. What?” barked the dark man. “'You’re holding me for ransom, of course?” CC No! ) “ Really?” said Miss Carson, and opened her eyes. “ Will you tell me just why you are holding me, then?”’ “No,” the dark man said briefly. ‘Put it in another way: if sufficient ran- som were paid you, whatever the circum- stances, you’d release me?”’ The dark man eyed her thoughtfully. comicloool C©