Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 146: what you’re looking at

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

772 the attention of him who crouched within, and then also whispered: ‘Hark ye, Masther Phil!” said he. “Ye’ve hearrd what has happened. I’m about to open this thrunk. It’s faced to- ward the stairs. Do youmakeabolt. Get to my place, if ye can—and annyway, may the saints be wit’ you!” He had been unfastening the lock and lifting the lid of the trunk while he spoke. As the last words were uttered, Phil, with elbows and knees braced against its sides from within, dashed its halves open and darted out. For an instant, but for an in- stant only, Phil’s eyes were dazzled by the light, so that he could not see where to run. In that instant the district attorney, his per- ceptions far more quick than those of the policemen, sprang forward, but only to stumble over the head porter’s foot—which may or may not have been thrust forward with that end in view—and fall headlong. The rest shouted. Phelim also shouted, but with derisive laughter. The noise brought Aunt Sophronia and Peggy to their doors in time to see Phil spring down the stairs, touching them only at long intervals, as he made his break for the ground floor, the outdoor air and liberty. No one attempted to stop him on the stairs. He dashed across the lobby before the police who were there had time to oppose him. He reached the front door—and there disaster overtook him. This disaster did not appear in any form generally recognizable as such. It was em- bodied in the person of one Mrs. Small, whose fame reached beyond her own imme- diate circle for the first and last time on this occasion. Being sensitive as to the matter of her bulk, and therefore refusing to step upon a set of competent scales, Mrs. Small’s exact weight was not known, but it usually was estimated in terms of tons. It was this extraordinary being who, just as Phil would have left the hotel, was in the act of entering the door. The door was one of those revolving affairs. Mrs. Small, with considerable difficulty, had wedged herself into one of its four compartments. Great bodies are proverbially said to move slowly, and in this instance the truth of that pro- verb was made manifest. With frantic en- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, ergy, and all his great strength, Phil pushed, but the inertia of that fleshy mountain was not to be overcome by any means such as this. Before he could gain the street two policemen were there awaiting him, and others appeared within. No course was left but surrender. Seeing this, he made no further attempt to run. To hide his mortification, he even managed to smile at the police who had intercepted his retreat. ‘“ Hands off!” he said. ‘‘ You’ve got me; I'll go quietly. But,” he added, medita- tively, “I always did hate fat women. I wonder why they ever let themselves get that way, anyhow!” CHAPTER XXIX. FROM THE DEPTHS, HIL’S recapture nominally placed the political ring where it had been before his escape. Nominally, but not real- ly. No one knew better than did the lead- ers of that ring, how precarious their posi- tion was. The newspapers and other print- ing establishments purchased or controlled by Aunt Sophronia through the agency of Jack Ayres daily were becoming an increas- ing danger. Already they had brought to light many unsavory facts and were con- stantly exposing more iniquities. These exposures were having their natu- ral effect. Election was at hand. Even though, in its extremity, money from out- side the city was poured into the coffers of the local organization that money would be of no help if it were not used quickly. Therefore the trial of Phil and Mr. Ayres was resumed instantly, and with an inde- cent haste and lack of justice that might have characterized the trial of a Puritan divine at the time of the Restoration. Sena- tor Reynolds was present only at its open- ing and close; it took but a moment for him to comprehend the state of affairs, un- precedented as it was. ‘““ Keep on as you’ve been going,”’ said he to Jack. ‘‘ You have done and still are do- ing all that any man can do—which , amounts to exactly nothing, so far as this court is concerned. Convictions are in- CORMICLOOokKs (C@