Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 7, 1922 — page 142: what you’re looking at

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

288 own free will, and before witnesses, he testi- fies that you are the heir of the Marneys. And that’s the price he pays.” “The price for what?” “For my silence, and Richard’s silence, about the—the thing that happened in that room, just before the end. Piers’s last wish is that that should be wiped from the rec- ord.” “That alone?” ‘And as much more as can be kept a secret between us. That is what Piers is fighting for—even on his death-bed.” Stephen’s forehead knited. “Can you understand it?” he asked. “Of course I can. I haven’t known Piers all my life without understanding him. He fights for his own hand. He hates being beaten. The chief points about Piers are his selfishness and his vanity. He is beaten now. But he would certainly prefer not to go to his grave with the name of being the worst scoundrel of his time—and a fail- ure at that. You see?” Stephen nodded. “ Suppose,” pursued Beatrice, ‘“‘ that the doctor was wrong, and he survived? If the whole truth were told, he would spend the rest of his life in jail. So, having a weapon leit him, he bargains for silence. And it’s cleverly done.” “Is that why Dickie agrees?” She shook her head. “ Dickie’s thinking of me. When all this comes out I shall be in rather a dreadful position. I’ve stood a good deal already, Stephen. But it means the witness box for me. To go over all that horror again; to tell the court how Piers threatened to kill me, and why—all that was said and done in that room. A case that will fill every news- paper in England. Piers is counting on that. I could face it—I’m not afraid. But it’s the most dreadful thing yet.” “Tt’s appalling!” said Stephen. “ And— what good would it all do—now?” “None. But I’m not going to lie. And Dickie knows it. I don’t understand him. Give me that paper of yours again.” She scanned it through, and gave it back to him. “What do you make of it—now?” she asked. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “There is nothing in it that is not cold truth. Dickie is right. Piers admits shoot- ing him—by accident,” said Stephen grim- ly. “ But what he meant to do—” ‘‘ Leave that out,” said Beatrice. “You say that Piers is—dying?” Her brother nodded. — ‘‘ Stephen,”’ she said slowly, “ we’re all of us Marneys.” “Just what Piers said himself,” mur- mured Stephen. “It’s my name—and yours. made what reparation he can.” There was a gentle knock at the door. Mr. Whitehouse entered, and, stood for a moment in silence. “Piers Marney,” he said quietly, “is dead!” Piers has CHAPTER, LII. MR. WHITEHOUSE ADVISES. HE lawyer closed the door, and bowing gravely to Beatrice, addressed himself to Stephen. “Sir Stephen,” he said, “I have some advice to offer you as the head and repre- sentative of this family.” Stephen looked amazed. “ Isn’t that a bit premature?” he asked. _“I think not,” said the lawyer, seating himself. ‘I regard your succession to the Marney inheritance and title as a legal cer- tainty. Piers has given me information that will establish your claim and your identity. I foresee no serious difficulty.” Mr. Whitehouse adjusted his spectacles with a slightly tremulous hand. “Sir Stephen,” he said, ‘ and Miss Bea- trice. I have long been the legal adviser and financial agent of the house of Marney; so were my fathers before me, time out of mind. It is a good name; a name that both of you will have to bear. Is it not a thou- sand pities to let it be dishonored?” “There is nothing we wish less than that,” said Beatrice, “ but—can we help it?” “JT think we can.” Mr. Whitehouse looked at Stephen. “ Will you tell me all that it is necessary for me to know of your meeting with this poor crazy creature they comicboooks C©