Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 109: what you’re looking at

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

= . ~~ — - - si (3 r 4 oT Ne . : a =te: = ~ ; a aap, Fi _* ri > a 7 pif fue sf Ain't. you afraid they'll break out?” Grant shook his head. “Not in one night, without tools. The keyhole don’t go through the door, you know; and I reset the bars in the window only last spring. The old ones had rusted some.” The telephone bell jingled just then; and Joe answered it. “This the chief? Mr. Rogers? Joe Grant speaking, from Moosuc. Yeah. Con- stable. Well, I got that Thumb feller want- ed for the Northampton Bank break a couple years ago. Him anda friend. Huh? I dunno who he is. Yeah—their suit case is full of skeleton keys and guns and things— what? In about an hour? All right. G’-by.” “ The chief’s coming himself, Ed. Going to bring four armed detectives. Says Thumb Carlin—that’s his name—is a killer, and won’t be took alive.if he can help it. Shucks! I reckon he’ll go peaceable. Didn’t make no fuss about going to the lock-up!” He chuckled, and Mosely’s booming laughter joined in. Smoking, talking fitfully, going often to the door to peer up the road, the next hour crawled slowly by. There came the purr of a great eight-cyl- inder car, the outleaping of a huge man wearing a gold shield and much gold braid, and of four slender, wiry companions in soft clothes and a regubation police thirty-eights. The chief shook hands with Joe, nodded to Mosely. ‘‘ Where are they ” “Locked up. Safe enough. Here’s their stuff.” “That’s probably nitroglycerin,” Rogers observed as he handled the thermos bottle gingerly. ‘‘ Guess I better let our explo- ' sives expert report on that.” Mosely’s eyes ballooned. “ Holy mackerel! And we ’most let the damned thing roll off onto the floor!” “ Well, if you had we’d have heard the : noise in Pittsfield,” said Rogers grimly. The little party, including Mosely, tramped down the road to the pretty lockup. 3 And as ey drew near, poe sounds | See THE “WEDDING GIFT. ee eo = S comic! ~~ ee = = ee eee meats - x Sea oe - Se Soe SS = ao a S came from within its snug walls, = breaking tenor was rendering: __ “There stood my poor old father, Weeping at the bar; ree There was my poor old mother, Tearing down her hair. as Tearing at her old gray locks : While the tears were streaming down; | s ‘My son, my son, what have you done — To be sent to Charleys-town??” ee The ballad was punctuated by a serie of whoops from Hambone es worthy of a football classic. | “Sure you haven’t pinched a gang freshmen by mistake?” asked Rogers. — Joe Grant shook his head and grinnec =e sheepishly as shrieks of laughter almos' a Se caused the thick growth of ivy to tremble = in the moonlight. ‘“ Shucks!” he muttered. “ If that war jest like my fergetfulness! There was me, and as _I got no cellar under my We I kept it in the lockup to ripen. Ane water in there, and so—” 7 “ And so these birds are ossifiemie wit 10 “f They'll likely be peevish by mort n is SS mused Joe. “A cider jag is an awful mean oe And so it was. When the door 1 opened after the two yeggs had been warne lesque lockstep, and expressing abounding = good will toward all living creatures. 7 join them in song. And as they rolled awa} in the big police car, Thumb Carlin le a wedding gift! They’s a big reward for me. But don’t let the crooked likely they must of got ae law cider,” finished Chief Rogers. one. But just now you'll find ’em ese | like.” 5 that four unerring guns were trained up on them, they staggered forth doing a bur They made no protest over being ironed. but begged tearfully that the visitors woul id out and called back to Grant: “ Joe, old cradle snatcher, I told ya I’d give 5 trim ya out of it— and give aS love Ella!”