The Argosy, January 1907 — page 194: what you’re looking at

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

376 “Just so!” ‘So you wished me to go with you and see the fun?” ‘I wanted you to go alone. I have an operation at ten, sharp, and I will have to be on hand half an hour in ad- vance.” “Then your idea was to have me un- dertake the job of keeping the appoint- ment? ” ‘ Precisely.” ‘“Um—yes.” Bridger studied the let- ter. “ Fourth and Renwyck Streets is four blocks above here—the depot’s three blocks. If this thing is genuine, and the man does appear on time and really hands over something or other to me which isn’t readily portable, 1 shall have to race back, drop it here, and run like sin to make that train. I do the work and you gloat over—oh, a possible pack- age of greenbacks, we'll say—in peace and quiet.” Jordan laughed a little. “Look here, Dick, you're coming back, aren’t you?” “ Friday, I hope.” ‘Then we'll do this. You keep the ap- pointment. If you do meet any one, and he does give you something, leave it here as you go. Whatever it is, I’ll give you my word of honor not to touch it. When you come back, we'll open it together. How’s that?” ‘Fair enough,” said Bridger. do it!” He folded the letter and placed it in his pocket; and after an hour of fruit- less and, on Bridger’s part, more or less humorous speculation they adjourned once more to the Union Club for dinner, the subject dropped until the morrow. At half past nine Bridger stood at the intersection of the streets, and reflected upon the idiocy of a man who could spend one dollar for a pair of black gloves to be used on such a mission. He procured them, however, and in one black-clad: hand he held the odd glove.’ The half-hour had gone by and no one had sought to accost him. Five min- utes passed, and ten; then the clock showed the last quarter-hour, and Bridg- er made remarks under his breath. It had all been some silly kind of joke! Now he would have a quick walk for cc T’ll THE ARGOSY. his train and a pair of black gloves to serve aS a warning against future follies. He turned away—and at the very mo- ment a short man turned out of Ren- wyck Street and walked straight toward him! Bridger quickly concealed the start and smiled meaningly as he raised the gloved hand. ‘The other stopped before him and nodded slightly. ‘Candee? ” “Yep. I’m from Fennell.” “All right. Got -the goods?” ‘Sure thing, old man!” chuckled the stranger. “ Great graft, ain’t it?” “ The greatest ever! ” “Well, Fennell told me not to dally around. Here. ‘There ain’t any use of our being seen together. So long.” He passed Bridger a flat package and turned away abruptly. The detective took his*cue and shoved the bundle un- concernedly under his arm. ‘The stran- ger paused for an instant. “Oh, say!” he remarked in an un- dertone. “I’m going to meet Fennell ‘long about Monday, down in Pennsy]l- vania. I'll be back Monday night, most likely. I guess he’ll write you.” He sauntered away, and Bridger was almost tempted to put over his depar- ture and follow behind. But the Cam- berwell case was pressing, and Corliss seemed to be in no end of difficulties. He would have to make the ten-twenty. Re- luctantly, he hurried toward Jordan’s house. What could be in the package? It was solid enough, but not very heavy. Its dimensions: were perhaps a foot each way, and its depth three or four inches. The detective poked at the brown wrap- ping-paper as he hurried along, but he could learn nothing. At the doctor’s house he was startled to learn that his watch had run slow by several minutes. He pushed quickly past the girl, laid the package on Jor- dan’s desk, with a scribbled note on one of his cards, and broke for the depot on a dead run. The difficulties of Corliss in the Cam- berwell case seemed to have been pret- ty well justified. Monday noon had ar- rived before Bridger next put in an ap- pearance in Craftsburg. To tell the truth, he had hardly for-, COMMICLOOOKS (C@)