Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 18, 1928 — page 50: what you’re looking at

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

t ' 848 Fat chance of his winning out in the present circumstances. Certainly not be- fore Harvey had cashed in and was again on the job. He wondered just what he should say to people in explanation of his sudden afffu- ence. He had been careful to keep his pros- pective trip abroad a dark secret. He had met Merle but twice under the arrangement they made on the day when the Wilmot merger became known. He had called once on Clare. After that he had dropped out of sight, having mentioned somewhat vaguely that he had a line on a position in Philadelphia. Just as well, he thought, And the con- fidences bred by the dope had washed out any fear that Merle would hear from the Craigs. Yes, matters were progressing nice- ly. Dost sauntered up and the two pro- ceeded to the bar. They had lined up comfortably and their drinks had been placed before them when Harvey suddenly stared, almost gasped in terror at the sight of a newcomer who en- tered the door, glanced around, then came swiftly toward where the pair stood, the light of recognition in his eyes as he bore straight down on Harvey! The man was a habitté of a drinking place which Harvey frequented in Brooklyn, a chap who lived mostly by his wits. A little betting on the ponies, a bit of poker, fights and so on. Sometimes he was flush, often on his up- pers. Harvey rather liked him but he was the last person in the world he wanted to see now! But there he was! There was no escape! To Dost he said quickly, almost implor- ingly: “ Here’s a bird I know, slick article! What in hell shall I do?” Now it was Dost’s turn to be alarmed. This was a complication he had not reck- oned on. He said: ‘“ Take it easy as if nothing was out of the way. Benice, Tell him—ah—” Max Griffen, the new arrival, slapped Harvey lightly on the back. ‘“‘ Well, well, well! What in hell you doin’ here, you ol’ buzzard?” “ Well, well, well, yourself! How come?” Harvey was sparring for time now. Then ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. he mumbled: “ Meet my friend, Mr. Dost. He’s an attorney, going over on some con- tracts, cotton contracts. out of a job and he’s taking me along to do some clerical work.” “H-m. Pleased t’ meetcha, Mr. Dost. Pretty soft for you, Harvey,” Griffen rum- bled. “Sure I will. Double Scotch for mine.” Harvey looked about. No one had heard, he believed. But if this lad was going about shouting “‘ Harvey ” and “ Sykes ” all over the ship, there would be the devil to pay! Dost took charge of the situation, deftly managed it so that they were able to break away in a reasonably short time. When he had Harvey by himself he said: ‘“ That settles it. You’re booked for the stateroom the rest of the voyage. I'll tell this Griffen bird that you’ve got an upset of some sort, cramps or the like. He’ll probably want to go down to see you, and that will be all right. He’s not likely to say much about you outside. It’s too bad, but there’s no other way out of it. And we’ll have to watch our step when we land.” For a few hours Harvey felt certain that they were undone, that exposure was just around the corner. But a generous allow- ance of the now indispensable “ snow ” and plenty of liquor set him up once more, and the days wore away without further alarm- ing events. Griffen did come to the stateroom, the number of which Dost had given him so that there would be no embarrassing in- quiries about the whereabouts of Mr. Sykes. On these occasions Harvey groaned proper- ly and Griffen sympathized. Griffen, it seemed, was going to London to attend a series of bouts at the National Sporting Club, and was confident of a clean-up. Harvey paid little attention to his plans, but Dost made a point of learn- ing enough so that he and Harvey would be fairly sure of avoiding each other during their stay in the British Isles. AIT. Merte WerentwortH—the genuine—in the meantime was having rough sledding in his hunt for a position among the business 3A Eboo com I happened to be | (E(9) ‘S