Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 4, 1926 — page 123: what you’re looking at

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

ROLL YOUR OWN. the afternoon trudging from pawnshop to pawnshop; there was a car to be acquired before the agency closed, and the drive out to Sunnyvale is no five-minute run. Ab- ruptly James found that he had gathered all the forces of deception that were within him, “Listen!” he cried tragically. cc Eh?” James Cranning leaned across the table. Obviously, he was in a high state of ex- citement. ‘“ Mister,” he said swiftly, “I got into the market on the wrong side because I thought I could beat it—and [I still think [ can beat it if you give me an even break here! I’ve got seventy-one thousand dol- lars sunk in margins at this minute, and I’m just the breadth of one hair from being wiped out! . “ve mortgaged my home to the limit, and I’ve raised money on my cars; I’ve dropped what little money my wife had into this, and I’ve even borrowed five thousand dollars from her mother—a lady nearly eighty years old, and it was the last cent she had in the world! “T’ve got it straight that things will turn to-morrow morning when the exchange opens; but it’s half-past two now, and if I haven’t put down nineteen hundred dollars inside the next twenty minutes, I’m wiped out clean, absolutely and completely! “T won’t have ten cents I can call my own—and as a matter of fact, if that hap- pens,” James concluded huskily, “ ’m go- ing to put a bullet through this dome of mine so that it can’t do any more damage!”’ He paused, panting, nor was this pant- ing quite all sham. The bald-headed man, as well he might, looked astonished. “So I’m a damned fool, mister, and I admit it!’ James’s hoarse croak advised the other. ‘‘ But don’t crucify me on that account! How do you want me to satisfy you that this stuff belongs to—to Ida?” The bald-headed man wore a pencil be- hind his ear. He now removed this pencil, and scratched the lobe of his ear with the lead point—not, of course, just the tidiest trick. Also, he looked straight and fixedly at James Cranning. And this was no ordinary stare; this, 8A 433 James sensed, was something very special, for unusual occasions like the present. The man’s eye was not hard and not rough; it was more like a surgeon’s tool, which laid open one section of the victim’s innermost brain, and probed about—laid open an- other section, and probed further. James smiled wearily, resignedly. He would have smiled with much greater as- surance had he understood, as did the gen- tleman with the scapel eye, that no intelii- gent person ever could have mistaken James Cranning for a criminal. “All right,” the bald-headed man said suddenly. “ You’ll—let me have the two thousand?” “Yes,” said the other, and reached for Irma’s possessions. Well, he was going! Whew! He was out of sight now, James discovered with the corner of one eye. Shaking, he slumped down further in his chair. The cold-eyed devil had suspected that something was all wrong—as indeed it was. But James had fooled him, by however narrow a mar- gin; ten seconds more of that stare and, ridiculous or not, James suspected that he would have thrown himself upon his knees, and begged for mercy. Minutes, and he was still weak, but he had taken to glancing around expectantly. Here he came, just as he had returned be- fore, with a sheaf of little tickets in one hand, and a sheaf of yellow bills in the other. He was even smiling almost like a human! “Well, here you are, Mr. Jordan,” he said. ‘‘ Count it, please.” James counted it, calmly as might be. “ That’s all right, thanks,” he said. ‘“ I'll have to rush now.” ‘Don’t you want to call your brokers on our ’phone here?” ‘“ No, Dll have to cart this down myself,” ~ James grinned fleetingly.- ‘‘ Good-by.” ‘““ Good-by, Mr. Jordan—and good luck!” the bald-headed man said quite heartily. It was over! Out in the open, young Mr. Cranning breathed deeply, and looked about him— Ah! Another poor wretch com- ing in here for salvation, eh? James smiled faintly and grimly at him—at a big, power- ful person with a sour face, and a gener- S 3 (E@) mn Ebo — =< . oe’ ee ee See