Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 18, 1928 — page 52: what you’re looking at

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

350 “ Darling! You have found a job for me. I love you!” Think of it! Well, he’d get the place, and he’d make good too! After that—he would see. Merle landed with both feet, next morn- ing. Assistant to the transfer clerk; forty- five a week to begin. It did not seem pos- sible. Yesterday out of work, bemoaning the loss of a thirty-seven-dollar post that had no future. To-day, all set at forty-five dollars, with something better in the offing if he proved satisfactory. It was a miracle, a miracle wrought by a girl who was a miracle in herself. Merle felt very humble and grateful and happy. oor LarGELy through the strategy of Dost, he and Harvey slipped ashore without en- countering Griffen when the ship landed at Southampton. And on the arrival of the boat train at Waterloo Station in London they hastened off in a taxicab to the Hyde Park Hotel, where they knew the chance of meeting the fight fan was very slight. They would be taking the morning train for Edinburgh, anyway, and such sight- seeing as they might fancy in London could wait until the business with Craig, Craig & Craig had been attended to. Accordingly, they spent most of the time in the bar, lingered over dinner, and put in a solid night’s sleep. Aside from his nervousness, which called for rather generous ‘ medical ” treatment, Harvey felt very fit when they had settled themselves for the long journey to the north. “You see, kid,” Dost bragged as they sped along, “ everything is breaking as I said it would. Gotta admit that—not?” “J admit that, all right,’ Harvey re- turned, waxed enthusiastic. ‘ Hell’s bells, Emil, we’re going to make a killing, just as you said! Damned if we’re not! I can’t believe it yet, though.” “ Well, you believe those yellow babies you’ve got in your jeans, don’t you?” “ve got to,” Harvey grinned. “ They are the real thing, without a doubt.” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “The best of it is that they’re only a spit in the ocean. Wonder what sort of a bird this Douglas Craig is. If he’s like his letters, I’ll know how to handle him. Nice, fussy old party, I guess. Wants all the commas in the right places, and blots every- thing twice.” Which, on the whole, was not a bad sum- mary on the part of the erudite Mr. Dost. Mr. Douglas Craig met them at the Waverly Station, singled them out unerring- ly, and led them to his antiquated Buick car, which he drove himself. ““ Weel-come, gentlemen. Weel-come tae Edinburgh,” he said in the broadest accent Harvey had ever heard—not excepting Harry Lauder. “Thank you, sir,” Dost replied politely. “Tt looks like a fine city, what we could see as we came in,” “°Tis a bonny spot indeed,” Craig as- sured him. “ Aye, a bonny spot. Ye’ll enjoy it, I’m sure.” He addressed himself to Harvey. “Yer uncle, bless his soul, could nae be coaxed awa’ frae Scotland, not often awa’ frae Dundee. Ye don’t favor him, sir. “No,” Harvey returned quickly, “TI re- semble my mother’s side of the family, I have been told.” Feeling that he was ap- proaching dangerous ground, he added: “But they’re all gone now.” “Then ye hae a’ th’ responsibeel-ity of carryin’ on, me lad.” Harvey sighed. ‘I suppose so.” He felt on the instant that the elderly solicitor did not approve of him, that he regarded him as a species of upstart. At the same time, he felt that he and Dost were perfectly safe. There might be contempt aplenty in Craig’s attitude; but there was nothing of suspicion. It was quite evident that the simple, honest-faced Scotsman accepted them for what they represented themselves to be. Harvey felt relieved on that score. “Yell no be wantin’ tae talk business the day,” Craig assumed. ‘“ An’ we’ll r-run ye o’er tae th’ Caledonian, which I expect yell prefer-rr tae the others. I took th’ liber-rty of bespeakin’ accommodations for (e(0) DOOKS AMIE (EO)