The Argosy, April 1912 — page 151: what you’re looking at

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

WRESTING A PITTSBURGH SECRET. “T’ve come from Pittsburgh. I’m here to protect my rights.” Carl Steiner’s grating voice was even harsher than usual, if that were possible. “You have no rights here that I know anything about,” rejoined Fred. “This property belongs to me—the Barrington Company.” A sinister chuckle that was meant for a laugh of derision was followed by a black frown as Steiner said: “I’m sorry: you’ve made such a bad mis- take. The trouble with you is that you don’t know what you’re talking about. I was your father’s superintendent for twenty- five years, and I can tell you that this 1s not his quarry at all. It belongs to an other man.” ce Who? ? “That’s my affair. Perhaps J’m that other man. Anyhow the powder found here is all mine, and I’m using it in my own factory. You know that. You broke into my house and stole some, as I learned afterward.” “Oh, you learned that, did you?” “Ves and it’s one of the things you'll have to answer to me for yet. I’m only sorry I didn’t thrash you as you deserved when you came to me pretending you were a glass-blower.” “I am a glass - blower,” Fred flashed back. “You couldn’t find any fault with my work, could your I was there to find out how you were making our No. 1.” There was a look on Carl Steiner's face which was not pleasant to see, as he retorted : “JT was making my own glass, with my own material. If you can find another de- posit of this gray clay anywhere in America I advise you to dry and pulverize it for your factory. Until you do find it, you’d better keep away from this place. I know you will hate to do that, for I never heard of any other quarry of what you call No. 1 powder in this country.” “There isn’t any other,” declared Pro- fessor Shaw, in parenthesis. “When you say this is your quarry you talk nonsense,” affirmed Fred. ‘Sim Galt has been supplying you ‘with the powder. I happen to know that.” “ How do you know?” “Never mind how. If I catch you using any more of the Barrington No. 1 powder I’ll let the law attend to your case.” “Why, you—”’ 137 Carl Steiner actually choked with rage. His fury was none the less when he recog- nized Professor Shaw and realized that the cribbage game at his house had in some way led to Barrington finding his way to the secret of No. 1. He advanced a step, as 1f to attack Fred, who was quite ready for hostilities. But the advent of another personage pre- vented a collision. Sim Galt stalked into the gray pit through the crack in the wall and glared at each of the three men in turn. Steiner was the only one who showed embarrassment. Fred and Professor Shaw seemed rather amused than _ disturbed. There was silence for some seconds. Then, in a tone of sarcasm, Galt said: “Well, I'd like ter know wot all this here means. Mr. Steiner, when did you come to Lookout?” “Oh, hello, Sim!” exclaimed Steiner, with affected heartiness. “Is that you? I was looking for you. I’ve just got another big order for chemical glass. It came in this morning’s mail. I’ve got to have fifty pounds more powder right away, so I jumped on a train and came after it.” He was trying to carry it off in a breezy, careless way, but his faltering tones and trembling lip betrayed his agitation. He felt that he had been caught between two fires. “Why didn’t yer come to my _ house, then?” demanded Sim. “‘J—I—didn’t know where it was.” “You lie!”- thundered the gigantic woodsman. “You did come around the house. I saw you. Then you followed me to the hollow. You didn’t think I saw you, but I did, and I knowed wot you was after. I give yer the slip, but you found yer way to the quarry anyhow.” “He followed us,” said the professor calmly. “I guess that’s the explanation. Eh, Barrington?” “Well, Steiner, you’ve found the place, but it isn’t goin’ to help yer,” went on Sim Galt, disregarding the professor. “I wouldn’t let you have another ounce of this powder to save yer whole carcass. It all goes to the Barrington Company, an’ I’m blamed sorry I ever let you git me away even for a day. Gut out!” As he roared these last two words he raised his great fist menacingly. But Carl Steiner did not move. He was so enraged as he saw his hopes of a fortune slipping from him that he lost sight of the great GOMIIGIOO S