Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 18, 1928 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

854 With which, now thoroughly beside him- self, he launched himself at Merle. “So you think you’re the guy, do you?” he snarled, and slammed his fist into Merle’s mouth! Caught unawares, the latter gave way under the impact of the blow. But he re- covered instantly and from then on, it was no fight! Like a wolf he was at Harvey. Left to the nose, right to the jaw and before the bewildered dope artist knew what was happening he felt himself grasped roughly by the collar and propelled violently through the outer door! “There!” Merle ejaculated as he re- turned to Clare who stood tremulously watching from the door of her apartment. Just what happened in the next few mo- ments, Merle never knew. But in the end, Clare was in his arms and between kisses she was telling him that, of course, she loved him and had for a long time and he was a silly not to have asked her to marry him ages ago! What did she care about money? They could manage somehow and just think of being together all the time! So Merle did think of it, and the thought almost frightened him—it was so precious! XV. MERLE WENTWORTH bent over his desk, busily engaged in mastering the daily erist of transfers. He attacked the pile with vigor. Life was wonderful! The world was a grand place! He felt strong and capable and sure of himself. He felt tender, too, when he thought of Clare and of the amaz- ing dream that was coming true! He would work very hard. He would make a lot of money so that he could give Clare the things she ought to have. Gosh! What a lot of wealth that pile of bonds under his hand represented. If only— Merle stopped, thunderstruck at the sight of his own name, leaping, it seemed, at him from the bond he had just unfolded! There it was—Merle Wentworth! Gosh! That was funny! Another Merle Went- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, worth. Selling L. M. & O. fives, of 1946 to Ludlow Brothers! Hello! Say! Merle examined the bond, stared open-mouthed at the history which the registration showed. Donald Went- worth, Estate of! Something queer, very queer, here! He knew who Donald Wentworth was, his father’s uncle. True he never had seen him and he did not know that the old man was dead. Also, he did not know that he had owned any bonds. The name had been seldom mentioned back in Templeton, but—who was this Merle Wentworth, anyhow? He had under- stood his father to say that he was the last of the line. Hastily, Merle ran through the lot of bonds. Thirty of them, one thousand dol- lars each. Gosh! Old Donald Wentworth had a bit of money, anyhow. But these bonds, now. Indorsed by Craig, Craig and Craig, administrators of the estate of Donald Wentworth, to Merle Wentworth. Indorsed in blank by Merle Wentworth, by Emil Dost, attorney, and left for record by Ludlow Brothers, bankers of New Street. There was something strange about the transaction, at least about the coincidence. Instead of completing the registration, Merle betook himself into the private of- fice of Mr. Porterfield. The latter was keenly interested and called the head of the transfer department. The bonds were brought in and Merle questioned closely in regard to his family history. Finally Porterfield said: “‘ Of course, it is possible that everything is straight, but it is extremely odd—odd enough to warrant an investigation. ll have Cronin over from headquarters and get his views. Seems to me that this man, Dost, ought to be interviewed in any event. His power of attorney seems to be in order, but, well, let’s have Cronin over.” 3 An hour later, Merle, accompanied by Inspector Cronin and carefully instructed as to procedure, pushed open the door of Emil Dost’s dreary sanctum. Dost looked up, a suggestion of alarm in his eyes. Then he rose. Gomichbooks (E(0)