Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

ANNIHILATION, “ Hush!” McCarty commanded in a low, tense tone as he lifted the man’s heavy head higher on his knee. The stertorous breath- ing had become mere heaving gasps now and all at once with a rumbling snort they ceased altogether, the flabby jaw sagging as the lids drooped. “Not Bellevue, Terry: the morgue, more likely.” McCarty spoke solemnly, ‘“ He’s gone.” ‘“Croaked!” Terry started up. “ It sure looks like it! Il run across to the house and tip off the lieut and put in the ambu- Jance call. You'll wait here?” Without pause for a reply he turned and splashed heavily but with surprising speed across the street to the station house, while McCarty looked down at the figure still propped against his knee. Its outlines were indistinct now that only the light from the street lamp remained, but it appeared to be muffled to the neck in a loose, dark ulster of some thin material which clung to a form that was portly though not actually stout. The upturned face, washed clean of the mud from the eutter by the rain beat- ing down upon it, showed like a grayish blur, its hideous distortion of feature re- laxed, leaving it a mere flaccid mass. Some involuntary movement of the supporting knee caused the head to slump forward on the dead man’s breast and once more that small, round bald spot gleamed whitely from the scant, dark hair surrounding it. “Mike Taggart—he’s lieutenant now, as you may know—says it ‘ll be all right to bring the body over there without waiting out on such a night for the ambulance.” ‘Terry had waded back through the reeking mire. “ He’d be glad of a word with you, too, Mac, so will you give me a hand with the old boy here? It’s only a step.” With a slight shrug and a smile that was lost upon his companion McCarty assumed his share of their limp burden, and together they bore it across the street and in at the door of the station house. He blinked in the sudden glare of light as the sodden figure was deposited on the floor and then turned to greet the homely, spruce young giant who had come forward from behind the desk. “So it’s Lieutenant Taggart now, that 803 — was a rookie when I left the force!” he exclaimed with a laugh. “I’d thought to drop in on you one of these days, but not as part of the escort for our friend here!” He motioned over his shoulder toward the body and the lieutenant shook hands with obvious respect before advancing to examine it. “ Glad to see you, McCarty, though you do come in strange company!” He smiled and then turned to Officer Keenan who had knelt and was running his hands over the inanimate form in a practiced manner. ‘“Humph! Looks like a pretty prosperous sort of a bird to be hanging around the water front on a night like this, don’t he? What do you find on him, Terry? I don’t believe I ever saw that face in this precinct before.” As the policeman turned over to his su- perior the contents of the dead man’s pockets McCarty stood gazing thoughtfully down upon him. He was apparently in the late forties and in life the beefy, extreme- ly close-shaven face might have been florid; the nose was short but highly arched, and the lids which had opened now revealed the small, pale eyes set in a dull, glazing stare. His raincoat of superlative texture and make had been opened to admit of Terry’s search and disclosed a dark brown sack suit and tie of the same gerade of conservative excellence as the outer gar- ment, but the low brown shoes that covered the large, rather flat feet were as incongru- ously inferior as they were blatantly new. The man’s hands were outstretched limply, palms upward with the thick though well- kept fingers curling slightly. McCarty’s keen eyes narrowed a little as they rested on them, Then he turned. . “ Lieutenant, I think I saw his hat go sailing off down the gutter as we carried him across. Shall I get it while you and my friend Terry, here, go over his effects?” “Wish you would, McCarty.” The lieu- tenant glanced up absently from the desk where he and Keenan were sorting out a collection of small articles. ‘“‘ You must take a flash at these when you come back.” McCarty nodded and departed upon his self-elected errand, appropriating the flash- light which the policeman had laid on a COMME OOKSaCO