Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

\3 Weary Ae hah Rawat eed Petit be A 8 Ae ea” OM SAP eres o Faye» ie © 08 Ni eh ya Le rie pe a} . , ’ ’ ' ‘ \ 4, teh : ’ Pn? TP ML Bd ' : ’ ea A ite ‘ hi AY Wynd a ; ‘ ali Ue VLAN ES ti Aa) RS ‘ i ne ua Z : ~ = = x = hands from trembling. He put them in his pockets. ‘And West’s skipped?” «¢ Yep.” ‘But surely that points conclusive sus- picion against him?” ‘“Maybe so. Maybe they ’Il figure out he skipped rather than testify against 2 friend. They’d shove you in a cooler at any rate until they found West.” ‘Maybe they’d never find him—” **'He’s slick.” “And I could never prove I didn’t kill Connor.” ‘“ That’s the dope.” Robbins got up from his chair and crossed over to Wilbur. He tapped him on the chest with a blunt finger. “Now, listen here: When I said the boys were talking it doesn’t mean that they’ve been mentioning any names—yet. They had to cover themselves about West and the police are out after him now. But they’re keeping it under cover that you were in the room, too. Get me?” “Then there’s nothing to worry about.” “The hell there isn’t. Maybe the po- lice won’t get West for some time. Fhe boys will begin to get uneasy. They “ll start men- tioning other names. Yours. I’m going to give you a straight tip. West hit for Canada. Go after him. Get a confession from him before witnesses. Cover yourself. His jumping off place is Montreal. He’s got twelve hours’ start on you. Go get him. Look up a small hotel called the Royal. It’s run by a man named Harris. Am I good enough to come to your house now, kid?” “VYowre welcome to anything I have. But I’m damned if I'll stand for your know- ing my sister. No matter what happens she’s got to be kept out of this. And that means my name’s got to be kept out of it.” ““ Wouldn’t do any Harm to let the boys know you'd be grateful for seeing you through. Grateful in a practical way. You ‘know what they are. They wouidn’t say no to a present. I could fix it for you if you say the word.” “Money?” “Sure. You could leave me a check.” “T never knew they were as low as that.” Ny Ni } ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, “Lot you don’t know, kid. It’s never healthy to play with fire. Never has been and never will be. Some day there’s a slip. Then you get burned.” “You're a brick to stand by me this way.” | “Vm different.” ““There’s a train leaves around seven—” “ Take it.” Wilbur crossed to a desk and wrote a. check. “That be enough?” he said. “Yep. I'll get busy right away.” Robbins extended his hand. Wilbur shook it. “Keep your trail under your own hat, kid—even from me. I want to be able to say that I don’t know where you are, if I have to, and mean it.” “ Good-by—and thanks.” “ Geod luck, kid.” CHAPTER VII. MADNESS. HE note left by Wilbur did not sur- _ prise Marcia. The note had simply stated that he was going away on a trip. it was typical of his actions for the last five years. Tt just meant another bust. They lasted anywhere from two weeks to several months. To inquiries from friends, she gave out that her brother had gone on a cruise about the West Indies. No, there was no definite itinerary. He would stay until his cold was better. They knew how hard the spring climate was for his throat. They smiled. Only too well they knew. That much, she had always felt, was due Wilbur; her protection during his absence. She was neither blind nor a fool. But there was nothing she could do. She generalized the absences for her own satisfaction be- neath the understandable term of wild oats. Her own affairs were reaching a climax; a climax that had loomed more largely in particular during the last two weeks of Wilbur’s absence. Robbins had begun to call with a frequency that approached reeu- larity. He secured his entrée under the cloak of anxiety about her brother. She y | ; NUR) yi Nn, | WOLF Nt \4 4H) ni HAN NP eV