The Argosy, January 1907 — page 45: what you’re looking at

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

AN EXPENSIVE BOARDER. his leaving the amount of the reward. Mr. Scales, chuckling inwardly, handed it over, and perfidiously expressed the hope that Jim might be brought back safe and sound. ‘Far too valuabie a dog to lose,” he said. ‘Or for Mixey to part with, once he has his claws on him,” he added under his breath. Mr. Butterworth dropped into Mr. Scales’s office in the course of the morn- ing, ande to him the latter related the success of the conspiracy. “The brute won’t bother me any more,” he said complacently. ‘ You have a great head, Butterworth.” ‘But I see you’ve advertised for him,” the other remarked, in some perplexity. ‘Oh, that was my wife’s doing,” re- plied Mr. Scales airily. “I couldn’t well prevent it without arousing suspicions, and it only amounts to the cost of the ad. Come home to lunch, and help me to face the lamentations.” There were no lamentations, however, when the two men arrived. On the con- trary, Mrs. Scales’s face, as she met them in the hall, was radiant. “T’ve got two pleasant surprises for yeu, George,” she cried. “I'll give you three guesses.” Mr. Scales laughingly shook his head. “Give it up,” he said. ‘First and foremost,” said Mrs. Scales, emphasizing the importance of her news with a forefinger, “ Jim’s back.” “ What?’ cried Mr. Scales, aghast. “Jim back? How on earth did he get back?” “He didn’t get back,” replied Mrs. Scales, laughing happily. brought back by the queerest old man, with one eye, who said he found him wandering about at the other end of the city. He told me such a pathetic story. It seems he has been out of work for ever so long, and his wife and children were nearly starving. He almost cried when I paid him the reward. I want you to try and do something for him, George.” “You bet I will!” assented George, with so much intensity that his wife stared at him. “ The infernal scoun- drel!” Mrs. Scales drew herself up. “He was 227 “T know the man by your descrip- tion,’ continued Mr. Scales, forgetting that his wife had only mentioned the loss of an eye. “I have heard of him through Butterworth, who is a friend of his.’ He darted an indignant look at his companion, whose countenance wore a most insufferable grin. worth has some very peculiar friends. The man never had a wife or family. He is a rascally professional thief and dog-stealer.”’ Mrs. Scales sniffed incredulously. “You haven’t asked me what the second surprise is,’”’ she said. “Go ahead,” urged Mr. Scales ; break it gently, please.” ‘I had a letter from Fred this morn- ing,’’ continued his wife, her spirits no- ticeably dampened by her husband’s un- responsiveness. ‘‘ He writes that he has to go on to New Orleans on business, and will not return this way.” “Come, that’s a piece of good news, anyhow,” said Mr. Scales. Mrs. Scales bit her lip in indignation. “Of course, you know he owes you some money,” she said. ‘““T believe I have a faint recollection of that fact,” Mr. Scales replied grimly, “but I can refresh my memory by a look at my check-book.” “How thoroughly nasty you are, George,’ protested Mrs. Scales. ‘ You are most unjust to Fred at the very time he is trying to repay you for your kind- ness. He wants you to keep Jim for your very own.” “Does he, indeed?” Mr. Scales ob- served, with bitter sarcasm. ‘‘ Very kind of him, I’m sure.” “Fred says,’’ Mrs. Scales went on, in a cold voice, “that Jim is worth three hundred dollars if he is worth a cent. He mentions the name of some man who will give you two hundred and fifty at once, but he thinks you ought to get more without any trouble.” Mr. Scales’s heavily beclouded coun- tenance brightened at once. “Come, come,” he said cheerfully. “Master Fred isn’t such a bad fellow but after all. I confess I don’t know much about dogs. I’d no idea Jim was so valuable. Where is he? Let’s go and have a look at the gold-mine.” ‘““He’s in the garden,” replied Mrs. COMING OOOKS “Mr. Butter-: * (E@)