All Story Magazine, December 1913 — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

A THIEVES’ fools, they would spend it elsewhere and their dependents would never get it back. But we can’t stand here dis- cussing my methods.” And putting out the light without further parley, he half led, half pushed me toward the door, suddenly gripping my hand and thrusting it against the knob, so that my fingers took hold of the thing instinctively. * Don’t turn it—pull it to the right,” he instructed. ‘“‘It can’t be opened from the outside except with a key. That's right "—as I pulled the door open—'"* now we're in the yard.” We passed into the open air, into the midst of gaunt shadows, and the door clicked behind us. “The gate is on the left, in the upper corner. ‘That's the way to walk right into the street and the other fellow’s gun, if it’s as bad as that. The other way is to turn to the right to the wire fence; and even if you try to miss it, it won't miss you. “Creep under it, and keep on until you have gone under one more wire fence and over one rickety board one. The board fence will tell you not to go any farther after you've gotten over it. Then you will be in Brannigan’s yard, and you will go up to his back door, walk right in, and if you say ‘Gregarach * he'll let you stay. “He has a little candy-store front- ing on Eleventh Avenue, and he lives in the rear of it. There is nothing that you need be afraid of. The two stores between the Clachan and Brannigan’s are vacant, and always will be, because I keep them so. I pay rent to myself for them. ‘Think you can remember all that? ” “Tt is just so much gibberish to me,” I expostulated. “ Man—but you’re an inquisitive soul. Just tell me now if you can re- member two wire fences, one board fence, and Brannigan’s back door, Can your” ‘*T think so,” I answered. “T hope so, but I'll write it down for you when we get home.” COMEDY. 757 * Elome?”" “My home,’ he answered tersely. “We've got a few things yet to say to each other, and we'll be fairly respect- able to-night and go out by the street gate. Doesn't the air feel good—even heres?” He drew a great, deep breath as we passed out into the dimly lit street and headed toward Tenth Avenue; and in- stantly I marveled at the man’s utter disregard for any sort of disguise or concealment. Apparently, he walked about under the noses of the police without a particle of concern for his safety. “ You're a cool beggar!” I declared as we crossed over to the sidewalk. Campbell laughed and took hold of my arm again. “ Dinna be feart, my mannie,” he soothed irritatingly, and continued in a low, cautious tone: “* You are safer here with me than you will ‘be in Rollins’s place to-morrow. ‘There is a policeman*at the corner, too, and if I condescend to notice him he will say “Good av’nin’, sorr,’ like a gentleman. “If you asked him who I was, he would probably tell you that I was a “quare Scotch gintlemin phwat owns the worrust saloon in Hell’s Kitchin, an’ is thryin’ to turn the place into a sivinth hivin, an’ not doin’ so bad at that, wit’ givin’ the force less worruk than it ivir had in thim parrts.” He and his captain may have a thousand suspicions about my connections with a certain company whose methods are like nothing the police has ever had to handle before, and Parks, of the Cen- tral Office, may have a thousand more ideas about me. “But suspicion and evidence are widely different things. Besides, which is more important, they know that Mr. MacGregor can make or unmake any gentleman with political aspirations hereabout—and that Mr. MacGregor has money—oh, lots of money!— I wonder who the lady is?” A woman had appeared within the light of the few little shops at the 3) comichooks.com