Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 146: what you’re looking at

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

520 over, and the dicks might have looked over my map in their gallery. You never can tell. Anyway, I finds out that this banker guy always puts on the feed-bag at a cer- tain table, at a certain restaurant, at a cer- tain hour, every day. You know, one of those methodical ducks. So I slips a piece of change to the handsome waiter and he leads me up to the proper stall, just before Derner sits in. This works out all right, and as I’m dolled up neat and plain, no one would have took me for anything but a retired plumber or some other man of means. The banker comes along in due time, and eases himself into the opposite chair, looks over the score board and orders his little row of eats. I makes some break about the weather, and the guy comes back with a little chatter and he talks a little of this and that. I says I’ve been away from the burg for about five months, but finds things going en just the same, and he says the place is one progressive little village. ‘“ By the way,” I says, “did they ever clear up the mystery about that Winston chap, the young lawyer who was supposed to be killed by the train?” | “No mystery about it at all,” says Derner. ‘No mystery at all. I identi- tified him myself; knew him for years. A customer of ours till he went wrong.” “ You're in business here?” I says, pull- ing him along, and ordering a couple of the brew that put the town en the map. He slips me his card, showing him to be one of the higher-ups of the bank. I flashes my own pasteboard, which I got out when we was thinking of going into the mining game, and it sets me out as Mr. G. B. Wilson, Mining Engineer. We're glad to meet. each other, and he comes back to Hooch, or Winston, making him out to be pretty much of a bum; hot a kind word for the poor lob. ‘“‘ Aha!” I says to myself, “ our good neighbor must have come out pretty good on account of Hooch’s kick-off; otherwise, why the unkind words?” Ain’t it the truth that a good way to get a guy sore on you is to put something geod his way? It ain’t always the case, but often enough. But, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. of course, I don’t say nothing to the jobbie, | and we changes the subject, and pretty soon Derner beats it out. The hasher comes strolling over. Hashers is guys just like any one else; they has feelings but they don’t always show ’em. This lob don’t know me, but he’s wise enough to know there’s a plant on some- wheres. ‘“‘T hears you say something about Billy Winston,” he says, stacking up Derner’s dishes and not looking at me at all. ‘‘ IT might be around the Post Office about seven-thirty to-night,” I says, reaching for my check and slipping a case note to the jobbie. ‘I’m certain to be there,” he says, and as it happens, he was. Now, when a bunch of fellows eat reg- ular at a joint, day after day, they talk among each other pretty free, and it hap- pens that Heoch or Winston used to eat with Derner and a couple of other fellows all_ the time, and this hasher always has their table. And naturally, he can’t but over-hear a lot of their chatter. He liked Winston, and he said Miss Seymour was one of the finest ladies in the town. Some- times she’d come in with Winston for lunch and women always show whether they’re good people or net in a public dining-room. But he didn’t like Derner; said he was crooked and had got into the money held in trust for Winston, claiming Billy had debts that had to be took care of. He says Winston was some bar-fly at the last, but he couldn’t see where he’d run up any debts, for he’d always paid as he went along, and always had a bunch of cash on hand. He tells me of another friend of Hooch’s a chap named Miller who ran a sporting-goods store and who was straight’ as a string. He says if I’m after any dope on Winston to see this Miller guy. The hasher don’t know that Winston ain’t dead and I don’t wise him up any. He’d have slipped the glad news to his skirt, and she’d have it spilled all over the burg before breakfast. Hashers is useful, and lots of them is all-right guys, but this. was deep stuff. So I lets the jobbie think: what he wants to, and slips him a five case- note so he’d forget knowing me. - COMME OOOKS UN i Colin