Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine, Vol. 107 No. 3 — page 174: what you’re looking at

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

516 ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. The wits of Geraldine Farley were not exactly sluggish, but the changed aspect of Wilbur was not to be grasped in a second. ‘“‘ How d’ye get this way?” she wondered. “Say, what’s the mystery? You ain’t a gink. Say, you’re a wise one. You’ve got the plain-clothes bulls to pinch Cawston!” ‘‘ And Heim,” grinned Wilbur, his smile broadening. ‘‘ Likewise the guy Art John- son you tipped me off to. [legal use of the mails, girly.”” He pulled back his overcoat enough to show the glitter of a badge. “The Department of Justice wants to see ’em.”’ The girl’s dark eyes sparkled, and she giggled. “Ts that right? And—pinch me, some- body—you ain’t from Flint, and married?” She |e Cli) N reality she wasn’t burned alive; but it looked mightily like it from your six-bit orchestra-chair. Nor was the cremation illusion new. It was so old that it had been entirely forgotten. So, on a present-day program, it was considered a novelty. B. Higgins had purchased the parapher- nalia second hand, and on the strength of it and his own personality, had secured forty weeks’ time on the Calcium Circuit. But at the last moment the young lady he had engaged for the martyr’s part had gum- shoed with the brainless progeny of a to- ee bas seta rePOBHt Vo “ as t mate ee <4, by Ks rep ® i, } y ot “Not yet, Miss Farley. But I’m not a member of the I. B. W.’s, either—Inde- pendent Bachelors of the World—see?” He beckoned to his companions, as an elevator _appeared in front of them. He leaned closer to the girl. ‘You was asking me for a bit of chatter, Miss Farley,” he said quickly. Then, drop- ping into the drawl of Martin Wilbur, of Flint, Michigan, ‘‘ I reckon, miss, I’ve got my mind set on taking you to the theater to-night, to ‘When Roses Are Dead.’ D’you think you could meet me in the lobby?” “Well, of all—” gasped Geraldine Farley. “Well,” the elevator door was closing, ‘““maybe,” she concluded. But the smile that accompanied the word meant more than that. , 5 3 (a jirn he, bacco potentate to the little church around the corner. She was too good-looking for vaudeville, anyway, Balboa H. had solilo- quized when he read her note. Higgins never dreamed but that he had lost his chance with the Calcium people; but they happened to be short of mystery acts. Luck was with him, and he was thrown into contact with Caroline. Be it understood that any old chorus girl would not do as subject of the cremation illusion. Good looks were desirable, but the right build was necessary. comiclooolks (CO) inn