Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 170: what you’re looking at

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

796 worked late and long at experimentation, then Joseph knew that in the morning he would be able to detect—having watched the accumulation of dust upon it zealously —that the case had been opened. And Jo- seph knew, too, that in all likelihood he would earn an honest dollar or two shortly by taking from the shed in the back a pitiful bundle and burying it—possibly a dog or a cat; once or twice, other animals. “Keep your mouth shut, Joseph,” or- dered m’siew’ at the very outset, “ or I will make you to sleep as quietly as that dog!” And from the look in the speaker’s eye, Joseph held small doubts in the matter. Besides, two dollars apiece was most useful, and beyond the knowledge and grasp of madame—not to mention an equal sum, or better, for such live animals as he might secure. “It is in the interest of human- ity, Joseph,” m’siew would declare. “ It is better to practice on lesser creatures than humans—eh? And some day the world will benefit for the work of Flaubert Deschesnes and his assistant Joseph!” Which eased Joseph’s scruples, with the aid of a fourth of the money put to re- ligious uses. Few senses are more potent in the mat- ter of the association of ideas than that of smell. As Joseph rummaged among the books this morning his mind was carried back, without volition, to events he liked best to forget, for all their financial possi- bilities. “ Par dieu!” declared Joseph, stopping suddenly in the midst of his literary ramifi- cations. ‘If that is not the odor that whiffed off the last tomcat to everlasting slumber, may old Saucier win the next game! Always it is the same: first that odor; afterward, ‘ Joseph,’ says he, grin- ning like the devil, ‘ see poor pussy has slept away its nine lives in peace. Your spade, Joseph, right after dusk sets in!’ ” He went over and looked at the case, noting the usual signs. “ ‘ The keys of life and death,’ says my master, ‘ are in that, Joseph. Hu- manity can be blessed or cursed by it!’ Well, it smells more like a curse just now. I would rather not be the sick person whom the devil doctors.” It was a faint, elusive odor, but unmis-~ ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. -takable when once encountered and remem- bered. “Tt does not live long, that odor,” he communed within himself. “ Therefore my master has been at his tricks again.” He sniffed the wine colored volume. “ My im- agination,” he said, “ or the book smells of it also.” He heard a sound in the store, as of some one descending the stairs from above, and hurried guiltily out, broom in hand, to meet Deschesnes. “T am driving to St. Gauthier, to fetch back the doctor for La Marche,” said Flaubert brusquely. ‘I promised his wife that aid, and the telephone service is im- possible there. You will find some parcels there—prescriptions and orders—ready to be called for.” Joseph bowed him out obsequiously, and continued his sweeping industriously. Later he sorted over the little packets. It was customary for messages to be received or orders left, to be called for when custom- ers or their messengers drove in to market. “The cure-all,” said Joseph Bedard, noting the inscription on several packages. “More miracles are wrought, it would seem, by Deschesnes digestive tablets than by the good St. Anne herself.” One took them for everything besides the digestion, thought Joseph, or else it was the seat of all ills. Familiar white tablets, of which he had sold many hundreds in | boxes of six, of a dozen, of as high as a gross. Tablets at which one laughed since m’sieu’ had confided in a moment of good humor: “ A mild sedative, Joseph—a very harmless one—but potent because the pa- tient believes.” Joseph looked over the names now, grin- ning the while. “* Pelissier, Duranleau, Barbeau—they all eat too heavily, anyway, and must expect to pay for it. La Marche—ah, the old lady’s digestion is bad again; she is a good customer, with her aches and pains.” Jo- seph, pursuing this thought, hoped for the good fortune of a call from the young lady herself; his thoughts of her were not shared with madame, who would be sure to misun- derstand. As he replaced the parcels, Jo- seph sniffed. Was it his imagination that the faint, Comicbooks: co