The Argosy, January 1907 — page 53: what you’re looking at

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

WHEN SUSPICION STRUCK HARD. It was not to be. ~The small man turned savagely at him. ‘Young man,” he snapped, “do you know that your unspeakable mess, there, has given me a pain?” Radford eyed him in silence for a minute. He was tempted to remark that even in the face of this terrific catas- trophe the roof had not fallen in, nor had any one of the stars dropped sud- denly into Bondville. But principle prevented, and he merely smiled suavely. ‘“’m quite sure that it was not the soda-water, sir.’’ “And I’m quite sure that it was. [ll have you understand that I’m not sub- ject to pains. Why the devil did I ever drink the mess?” ‘I’m sure I can’t explain that, sir. I didn’t ask you to,” Radford remarked with gathering warmth. ‘By George, sir! blacklisted all over the country! stuft’s poison! ”’ The larger man grinned at Radford and patted the other on the back. ‘“Nonsense!’’ said the big voice. “The stuff was all right. You’re just a little touchy over being held up.” The irascible person said nothing for a little. His lips whitened, and his face developed sudden lines of pain. Then, after a minute or two, he turned sharply to Radford: ‘* Look here,-young man! I don’t pre- tend to know what your mess was made of, but I can tell you that I’m suffering! Give me something to counteract it, and do it quick!” “ But I can’t give you ‘Drop it, I tell you! Give me some- thing to stop this, or I'll have you in jail before I leave this town!”’ “Now, my dear sir!”’ Radford pro- tested. “My dear a-a-ah!”’ The druggist stared somewhat. The face of the larger man grew longer. Robert Radford, who had stepped out to enjoy the episode, suddenly ceased to smile. There could be ‘The man was in extreme pain. “This chap’s suffering,” panion remarked sharply. deuce was in the stuff?” You should be ‘That >»? sir be [|— hanged ! his com- “What the no doubt about it. 235 ‘Nothing whatever that should not have been there, I assure you!’ Rad- ford cried. ‘““J——— ‘Well, whatever it was, something must be done for him, and immediately. Why, he can hardly speak ! : He grasped the smaller man as he tot- tered and gasped. He stared from the victim to the druggist, and there was an expression in his eyes which made Rad- ford, innocent eet oh he was, flush” suddenly. “We'll take him in back,” he said briefly. ‘‘ There’s no use kicking up any new excitement just now.” He laid hold of the other arm, and together they piloted the staggering little man behind the _ prescription-counter. The editor, thoroughly startled, pushed forward the lounging-chair, and into it the sufferer dropped with a groan of agony that sent a cold chill along at least two spinal columns. “ Now—what 1s it?”’. the big man asked curtly. ‘‘ What’re you going to give him, druggist ?”’ Radford’s eye ran along the lines of bottles. “What sort of trouble is he subject to?” he asked. “Subject to! Orange phosphate, just now, [I think! ”’ “Well, he’s not!” Radford cried sharply. “This must be something con- stitutional, my dear man. I’m not a physician. I don’t pretend to under- ‘stand what has struck him. Sup- pose # “Good Lord!” the editor inter- rupted. “Give him some whisky, or brandy, or something of the sort. He looks as if he were going to collapse in ten seconds.” Breathing hard, the druggist ran to a tall bottle and poured out a generous dose. He hurried back to the stricken man and tried to place it at his lips. Intentionally or otherwise, a clutching hand shot out and sent the glass across the floor, a clattertig wreck. “Get a doctor!” the big man fairly shouted. “ Can’t you see that he’s be- yond any devilish pill-mixer? Get a doctor, and do it quick! I'll stay here with him while you’re gone! Quick!” ce Butea ‘“ Never mind whether you suffer for: COPMICLOOC S ~ (C@)