The Argosy, April 1912 — page 139: what you’re looking at

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

WRESTING A PITTSBURGH SECRET. 125 gize the next time he sees me. Even though we are not friends, he does not often venture to be abusive.” “Will he know you did not sleep at home?” “No, but Delia will, and it may worry her. I should like to call her up on the telephone.” “Good idea! Go ahead!” Lucille got Delia on the wire and there was five minutes of animated conversation. Delia told of her anxiety over the absence of Lucille and how glad she was to hear her voice. Mr. Steiner had gone to the ‘factory early. He had not been to bed at all, but had spent most of the night in his laboratory on the fourth floor. The door was locked now. He had also mended and closed the other door, leading to the lumber- room from the hall, which he had burst open himself. At this point Delia said the grocery man was at the kitchen door, and she rang off forthwith. “T guess Carl Steiner is going right on making our No. 1, Lucille,” remarked Fred, when she repeated to him what Delia had told her. “I don’t know what else he could have been doing up there last night,” acquiesced Lucille. “Well, I'll look into that when I have found out where he gets our powder.” Lucille made no comment... She produced a pad of paper and pencil from the type- writer drawer and sat down demurely at Fred Barrington’s right, to take his dicta- tion. The young man found among his morning letters several orders for No. 1 chemical glass. He replied that he would fill them all. Writing these letters, with the others in the mail, kept them busy for an hour. During that period they did not talk of any- thing save the business immediately in hand. Fred had just put his decidedly dashing signature to the last of the letters, while Lucille closed the typewriter, when Jim Mc- Kee breezed into the office. He was fol- lowed by Professor Shaw. The two seemed to bring with them the fresh breath of the morning as well as a full supply of good humor. Jim McKee burst into explanation: “We should have been over sooner, Fred, if the governor hadn’t happened to see Pro- fessor Shaw in the office. That meant ten minutes’ talk on mill matters. Mv respect- ed father never can let the professor get by without asking him a bushel of questions about iron ores and steel in the making.” “Well, that’s what he pays me for,” laughed the professor. “ Now, about this Sim Galt, Mr. Barrington. He will be in Pittsburgh to-day.” Fred looked at him in surprise. “J knew he was likely to be here, pro- fessor. But—pardon me! How did you find it out?” “Oh, I have been acquainted with Sim for years. He’s a capital guide when one is hunting in the mountains. I go up there frequently for rabbits and anything else I can bring down. Sim is always with me. I shouldn’t enjoy myself without him. He and I have hiked forty miles from sun-up to dark many a time.” A glance at the professor’s sturdy limbs, well-developed chest, clear eyes, and ruddy cheeks would have told anybody that he was fond of outdoor life. Until four o’clock that morning he had been busy in his laboratory and had slept only four hours since. But no one would have suspected it from his appearance or demeanor. He was as full of “go” as if he had never consumed a drop of midnight oil in his life. “Sim Galt always goes to see the pro- fessor when he’s in town,” volunteered Jim. “Comes to the office sometimes. That’s how I know him—by sight. I never spoke to him.” “The reason he comes to me is that he never knows when I may be going for a hunt,” said the professor. ‘At this time of year I treat myself to a day off whenever I can break away.” ‘““Have you seen this Sim Galt to-day?” asked Fred. ‘No. He’ll drop in on me in the after- noon. He’s been coming to Pittsburgh every alternate Wednesday for years. But there’s always a chance that I might miss him, and I wouldn’t do it to-day for a great deal. I believe he can tell me something about this Barrington No. 1 powder.” “TI believe so, too. But that’s another thing I don’t know how you managed to find out.” The professor’s full, round laugh echoed through the office and made the windows rattle. It was a laugh as care-free and spontaneous as that of a college youngster in his freshman year. Then he said: “There are many ways of arriving at conclusions besides having them bawled at you through a megaphone.” comicaoolkks