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Updated: April 30, 2025
Thus freed of that strangling embrace, Dick stumbled blindly to his feet. Then, mechanically, his hand went to the lamp on the table back of the couch. In the same moment Garson snapped his torch to darkness.
Garson regarded the distraught girl with wistful eyes. But there was no trace of yielding in his voice as he replied, though he spoke very sorrowfully. "No, you can't help me," he said, simply. "My time has come, Mary.... And I can save you a lot of trouble." "He's right there," Burke ejaculated. "We've got him cold. So, what's the use of dragging you two into it?" "Then, they go clear?"
She at the same time indulged her tastes in art and literature by reading the jokes and studying the comic pictures in an evening paper, which the maid brought in at her request. She had about exhausted this form of amusement when the coming of Joe Garson, who was usually in and out of the apartment a number of times daily, provided a welcome diversion.
Moreover, there were manly qualities in him to work out all things needful for her protection through life. Already, he had proved his devotion, and that abundantly, his unswerving fidelity to her, and the force within him that made these worthy in some measure of her. Garson felt no least pang of jealousy.
"It's Mary," he explained, with some embarrassment; "her and young Gilder." "Well?" came the crisp question. "Well, somehow," Garson went on, still somewhat confusedly, "I can't see any good of it, for her." "Why?" Aggie demanded, in surprise. Garson's manner grew easier, now that the subject was well broached.
By some magic of duty, he had contrived to give his usually hebetudinous features an expression of enthusiasm. "Say, Chief," the detective said rapidly, "they've squealed!" Burke regarded his aide with an air intolerably triumphant. His voice came smug: "Squealed, eh?" His glance ran over Garson for a second, then made its inquisition of Mary and of Dick Gilder.
He pointed to the one that gave on the passageway against which he had set the chair tilted. As the man obeyed, Garson gave further instructions. "If any one comes in that way, get him and get him quick. You understand? Don't let him cry out." Chicago Red grinned with cheerful acceptance of the issue in such an encounter. He held up his huge hand, widely open.
I've taken off my beard since then. Can I have a new one?" He put the question with an eagerness that seemed all sincere. Burke answered with a fine feeling of generosity. "Sure, you can, Joe! I'll send you up to the Gallery right now." "Immense!" Garson cried, boisterously. He moved toward Dick Gilder, walking with a faint suggestion of swagger to cover the nervous tremor that had seized him.
"Because he didn't do it." She stated the fact as one without a hint of any contradictory possibility. "Well, he says he did it!" Burke vociferated, still more loudly. Mary, in her turn, resorted to a bit of finesse, in order to learn whether or not Garson had been arrested. She spoke with a trace of indignation. "But how could he have done it, when he went " she began.
Aunt Osla, however, was charmed with the idea, said it was a very pitiful story, quite true, and just suitable for a ballad; so Garth's verses were to be read after lunch and other ceremonies were over for other ceremonies there were to be, as all could guess who saw Fred Garson talking eagerly apart with Yaspard, then choose a lovely green spot, and say, "This will do.
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