All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 40: what you’re looking at

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

750 He spoke very low and glanced to- ward the door, and, as I sank limply back into my chair, feeling that I was being cheated by the delay, a young man, cap in hand, slipped into the room, closing the door noiselessly. “The old man—’ he began hur- riedly, as he came forward. “T know,” the Gregarach rupted. ‘“ Batch gone?” ‘Ves, sir. Saw him bein’ helped up th’ av’noo, sir.” “Good. Shake hands with Mr. Mason. Mason, this is my lieutenant and friend—Mr. Beans Borrowman.” Beans’s hand shot forward, and I rose and took it gravely. ‘Glad to know you, sir,” he said in a peculiarly quiet voice, while I mut- tered something about the pleasure being mutual, trying to grasp the fact that I was hobnobbing with thieves and all sorts of questionable people. Meeting him in a casual way, one would never have taken the trouble to look at Beans twice. He suggested the young, ill-paid mechanic, who counts each new suit or pair of shoes as being “so much at so much per week.” His face seemed dusty, encouraging an inclination to wipe it off witha dry rag, and the curious gray eyes, that looked out at one from under strangely scattered eyebrows, gave one the im- pression that the world was an ever- lasting surprise to him. In his build— of medium height, his shoulders slight- ly guilty of the slouch of his class— there was a hint of supple strength and quickness. “Put him to bed?” the Gregarach asked lightly, referring to the “old man.” ‘Yes, sir—strapped.” “ Good. Della been round to-day?” inter- “No, sir. .Ain’t seen her since Mon- day, sir.” “Um—all right. Take this round to Mrs. Phalen—and tell her to pay two months’ rent out of it. She’s one in arrears, you know, and I’m afraid Danny doesn’t tell her the whole truth about these things.” THE ALL-STORY MAGAZINE. His eyes swung lazily upon me. “ Mrs. Phalen is blind,’ he advised, and turned to Beans again. ‘ Tell Danny he’s to go to Corcoran’s Mon- day morning at eight sharp. ‘Time- keeper. And you might slip into Blakeley’s and ask him about his rheu- matism. Doe Briggs was to see him to-day. Davie Marks and his sister get away all right?” : “Yes, sir,’ Beans replied, taking the proffered envelope as a matter of course. ‘‘ The kid was looking pretty bad, sir.” A furrow appeared Gregarach’s eyes. “Yes—it’s a pity we didn’t know between the sooner. But Colorado Springs should help. Heard anything from Bran- nigan? ”’ * Just a card from Phoenix, sir. He says it’s all to the mustard down there, sir. ‘“T hope so. Gibbs seems to be sur- viving, at any rate, and he was in worse shape than Brannigan. Any re- ports from Crabbe or Paler?” ‘Crabbe sent Crowley down to say there was nothin’ doin’ yet—an’ Paler will be in to-morrow. Gregg’s bunch are mostly hangin’ round. When you was away they wouldn’t woik for me steady, and I think you'll have to talk to Gregg, sir. “His crowd gets nasty roun’ me— hollerin’ for a bigger rakeoff and want- in’ to get back to shootin’ up the town. Lyin’ low, woikin’ quiet, gets on their noives, an’ what wit’ Batch tryin’ to get the Lumber Gang to come down an’ muss us up—lI ain’t had much of a chanst to git ’em woikin’ as I'd like, sir.” I could only dimly understand—like the chap who hears two doctors hold- ing a consultation over him, but the Gregarach listened attentively, eying his lieutenant in quiet interrogation. “ Sure you are not losing your grip —hunting for Smith?” Beans pulled his head back as if avoiding a blow. Quite evidently the reference to Smith had startled him. a3 comicloooks.com