Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 67: what you’re looking at

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

* {| can't say exactly how, said. lj | know is—I heard him cry out, ‘ My God, you’ve done for me!" and t heard her say, ‘I meant to! I thought it all out! It’s only what you deserve!’ ”’ " “Tf this is true,” said Silvers, “it was deliberate, premeditated murder! Do you understand that, young man? This testl- mony of yours Is liable to send a young girl to the chair!” “That's what I heard,” he reiterated stubbornly. . : “T tell you he isn’t responsible! He's under the influence of drugs,” protested Joan. “ He always is. He has a habit of telling the most unlikely tales—and swear- ing to them. It isn’t that he intends to lie, really. He believes them himself. His 1m- agination plays tricks with him. I tell you, I know him!” “ How is it that you heard all this and still didn’t sce how the murder was done?”’ asked Garry. “T was hiding,” answered Fielding. “ Where?” His eyes wandered. “In the other room,” he answered. “Why didn’t you interfere— or make some outcry afterward?” “T didn’t want to get drawn into it— on Joan’s account!” ‘’So? And what happened after Miss Kendall said that it was only what Da Costa deserved?” Fielding hesitated. ‘“T don’t know. I heard him fall. Then I sneaked out of the other door and went back to my table!”’ “ What other door was that you sneaked out of?” asked Garry. “ The door to that room in there!” ‘‘ But there is no door to that room in there,” said Garry quietly. ‘No door?” he repeated. “Only that one that you see. No door to the corridor outside!” Fielding looked confused. “1 told you he didn't see anything or hear anything,” put in Joan. ‘“ He was with me~ at my table—all the time!”’ “ Don’t keep saying that!” he cried fu- riously, turning upon Joan. ‘“ Can’t you see they want to make you the goat! And not! I don’t remember only know she killed him dall. She killed him!” He bit at his finger nails; his eye ed warily from Silvers to Garry, and was a defiant, hunted look inthem. “ Come, now—why do you want to Im plicate her?” asked Garry quietly. “She killed him. Nobody else. did it!” “ God bless me, I believe he’s saying all this to clear me,” gasped Joan, laying her hand on Fielding’s arm and turning him round toward her. ‘“ Are you, you foolish kid?” she added more gently. “‘ It isn’t at all necessary, you know. And think of that poor girl if they believe your tale—think of the fix she’ll be in!” “ Bah! She’s got money! You can get away with anything in this town if you’ve got money!” he muttered. “ There’d have cops in here long ago if I’d been sus- pected!” “ You see,” said Joan, simply, turning to the others, “he just made all that up to shield me. He’s a regular guy, all right! He’d come through!” Fielding straightened up a bit with pride. “Vou said it,” he admitted. “You mean— you did story?” asked Garry. He looked at Joan; she nodded encour- agingly. ‘‘ Sure,” he mumbled, s@mewhat sheep- ishly, and dropped his head. Silvers and Garry drew a long breath of relief. “Can you beat that?” asked Joan. “Well, I thought maybe you did do it,” he explained, “ and I didn’t want to see you arrested—you’d have a hard time to get off! I knew the Kendall girl wouldn’t! And I guess she had cause enough to want to kill him—same as the rest of us that knew him. Not that I have it in for the Kendall girl—but she was the only one I could think of on the spur of the moment! Her name just popped into my head.” He looked up anxiously at the others. __ , ‘ It's right—what she said,” he add indicating Joan with a jerk of his head comi invent that (@) (oy