The Argosy, August 1905 — page 105: what you’re looking at

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

Ol Pet: and the Nile,” said Blinkers musingly. “ Hank Billings ch San Antone, lent me a book once t told a lot of yarns about Cleopatra. De you think there are enough seeds to take us that far?” “It would be a waste of good ma- terial even if there were,” answered Trenwyck sharply. ‘“ We'll try Tap- scott’s prescription, however.” “ Dark Ages?” Blinkers asked lugu- briously. “Not so far. Spain—Bonaparte— Peninsular Campaign. TH write a sequel to the ‘ Mistakes,’ from the view- point of an eye-witness.” Blinkers brightened perceptibly, but Trenwyck could see that his faney was still hovering around the Pyramids. “Yowre the doetor, Tren,’ said Blinkers, clasping his friend’s hand. “Just pick out your century and we'll emigrate. No one ever did anything like this before, do you think?” ““No one but Tapscott.” * It’s a comforting thought,” Blinkers observed as they descended from the cab in front of their hotel. Had Trenwyck considered wisely, he would have left Blinkers behind when taking that headlong plunge into the past. Blinkers had a weird propensity for giving rein to his own sweet will, utterly reckless of consequences—a eharacteristic as dangerous for his friends as deplorable for himself. | With Trenwyck, however, Blinkers was a habit, acquired to an extent which rendered the expedition impossible without him. So they were to pany. “emigrate” in com- CHAPTER III. A FRUSTRATED ROBBERY. JASON TRENWYCK came of a good old family noted for its self-sufficiency. In fact, that honest, one-legged despot who was the last Dutch governor of New York was numbered among his for- bears. This scion of the Trenwycks was born into poverty and its attendant priva- tions. Early in youth he availed him- self of Horace Greeley’s advice and _ trekked for the setting sun. Ate. a] ys , Blinkers, Years later, when he returned to his native city, he brought with him a vast fund of experience, much wealth, that hatred of the commonplace which formed his most distinguishing trait— and Blinkers. Trenwyck had taken his turn at ranching, mining, polities, and a dozen other pursuits the West had to offer. As his mind expanded he developed a taste for literature, which, coming arm in arm with a saving sense of humor, fell just short of a dangerous stage. It may be remembered that he found a “cypher” in the so-called Shake- speare plays which laid their authorship as unquestionably at the door of the lamented Bill Nye as others haye laid it at the door of Francis Bacon. He also wrote a volume on “ The Mis- takes of Napoleon, with Especial Refer- ence to the Peninsular Campaign.” The MS. of this work was returned by one publisher with a personal letter to the effect that “they were sorry to re- turn his paper, but he had written on it.” Trenwyck immediately published the book himself. Late in the evening of the day that witnessed their adventure in Forty- Third Street, Trenwyck and Blinkers were in the sitting-room of their suite, discussing ways and means. Trenwyek was lounging In an easy-chair by a table, a cigar between his lips, a mug of his favorite shandygaff at his elbow, and the seeds of the lempus fugitarius heaped up on a piece of paper on the table-top. There were ninely-three of the seeds, as they had found by actual count, each about the size of a grain of millet. The entire supply could easily have been placed on the blade of a pocket-knife. “Just how many years, Tren,” said blowing thoughtful whiffs from his cigarette, “are locked up in that thimbleful of seeds? ” “Tour thousand six hundred and fifty,” answered Trenwyck. “Great Christopher! What a heap of traveling we could do if we used all those seeds for transportation—provid- ing, of course, Tapscott hasnt rung in a bluff on us.’ “You haven’t any doubts about Tap- scott, have you? It-seems to me he has proved his case.” comicbooks.com