The Argosy, January 1907 — page 193: what you’re looking at

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

THE LETTERS MARKED XxX. to figure on. We haven't here, at the present moment. That all of the story? Nothing more in the line of peculiar things has been happening? ” ‘“ No—except = Jordan broke off. ‘“Well, except what?” “Dick, this morning, when I went out, I believed that a man on the corner followed me.” Bridger leaned back and roared un- til the club waiters stared almost in horror. ‘You'll do, Tom! By Jove, you'll do! If that isn’t the regular gag, I never heard it—the mysterious man lurk- ing on the corner and dogging your foot- steps about town. Why thé deuce is it that when the average mortal stumbles across something odd somebody immedi- ately takes to shadowing him precisely after the fashion of the stage de- tective? ” “It—it may have been a mistake on my part,’ said Jordan, a little confus- edly. “Well, I guess it was, old man.’ Bridger gathered the letters together and his face smoothed out. “ Seriously, Tom, I’m downright curious about these things, although there may be absolutely nothing behind them. But just now we have nothing whatever to work on. We'll have to wait—well, until ‘ F’ be- comes a bit more explicit.” “But if we don’t hear more——’”’ “We'll forget it, and nobody will be much the loser.” Jordan pocketed the letters, and for the time the subject was dropped. Yet Bridger, idling his time between Craftsburg’s beauty-spots and the quiet nooks of the surrounding country, could not quite forget the affair. There was something distinctly curious about the correspondence of the itinerant “ F.” Each of his letters bore a different postmark. ‘That was a little queer in it- self, for Bridger could not conjure up a line of business that would exactly fit the case. And if it were legitimate busi- ness, why were the letters not addressed to some one in the business world to whom they belonged—and not to Dr. Jordan? More than once the notion came to anything 375 him that this was some little private joke of Jordan’s, but there, too, a flaw ap- peared. Even had Jordan cared to un- dertake a joke so elaborate on his old friend, there would not have been time to put it into operation, for the post- mark of the first letter antedated Bridg- er’s note regarding his trip by some three or four days. No, the letters were genuine enough, but—what did they mean? Two days later, he called at Jordan’s in the late afternoon, and his counte- nance showed no very happy mood. “Well, vacation’s off, Tom!” he an- nounced. nT Wweyr “Oh, I have just had a wire from Corliss, who’s running the detective agency in my absence. He’s in some sort of tangle with that Camberwell case, and he wants me there for a day or two—hang him!” ‘When are you going?” ‘“ To-morrow—ten-twenty train.” ce Bah ! 7 Bridger stared. ‘Well, what the deuce are you wor- rying about?” “I hoped that you were going to be here!” “ But why?” The doctor reached forward and drew a letter from his desk. Bridger’s eye caught the familiar double-x mark in the corner, and he stepped forward eagerly. ‘Another one, eh?”’ ‘Another one—and just read it!” The detective quickly spread the sheet upon his knee. ; “My peEAR J.: Have more than [ can carry. Met an old _ friend—his name is Candee—yesterday, and gave him the job of bringing them to you. He will be in Craftsburg Wednesday morning, early. Told him to meet you at the corner of Fourth and Renwyck Streets at half past nine, sharp. If you can fix it, be there. If not, write him to Gen’l Delivery and make an appoint- ment. His initials are B. D. Inas- much as you have never met, I told him that you would wear one black glove and carry the other in the same hand. He will deliver the goods, and you hold them until I write instructions. F.” ““He will deliver the goods’! ” Bridger repeated. “ What goods?” COnMICEOOOKS (C@)