The Argosy, April 1912 — page 73: what you’re looking at

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

ROOST OF THE TUMBLING Q. “If I go cavortin’ back home without that check the old man’s just naturally goin’ to bust me wide open, that’s whatever.” He believed he knew his employer well enough to be certain that that individual would not accept an explanation of the loss, reasonable or otherwise. The owner of the Tumbling Q was a man who insisted on “delivering the goods both ways,” and fail- ure to do so was an unpardonable offense in his eyes. Roost had carelessly allowed himself to be robbed of what he believed was eleven hundred dollars of real money belonging to his boss. That he could easily have stopped payment on the check did not occur _to him. Roost was not versed in the bank- ing laws. As he sat there pondering this phase of the situation, several men rushed by him, and one of them, carrying a heavy grip, stumbled violently against the cowboy’s foot and sprawled on the floor. This caused the owner of the outraged pedal extremity to straighten up with a yelp of pain. The man was evidently in very much of a hurry, for, scrambling to his feet, he seized his grip and without a word of apology, or even a glance in Roost’s direction, he rushed away to catch his train. “You darn mav’rick!” grumbled Roost after the retreating figure. ‘Who do you think you’re walkin’ on?” He leaned over to examine the injured foot and discovered a small envelope lying close beside his toe. He first carefully in- spected his boot, wriggling the toes. It was a small manila envelope with the name of the railroad company printed on the front. Roost picked it up and could feel that it contained something, but not until he had made a complete and exhaus- tive examination of the exterior did he raise the flap, which was unsealed, and examine the contents. This was a long, narrow strip of pale-green paper, folded several times. ‘“‘Good for one first-class fare to Chicago, subject to conditions given below,” read Roost as he unfolded the strip. “Hello,” exclaimed the cowboy in sur- prise, “blamed if that mav’rick ain’t done gone and lost his car-fare, same’s me!” Instant sympathy for a fellow sufferer caused Roost to spring to his feet and hurry away in the direction the man had taken. He remembered that the fellow was dressed in brown, and he kept his eyes peeled for clothes that color in the crowd. 59 No suit of that hue caught his eye, how- ever, and after a minute’s search it oc- curred to him that perhaps the man was not yet aware of his loss and had already boarded his train. Roost at once made a bee-line for the gate. Reaching there, he would have passed through had not the gateman intercepted him. “Ticket, please.” “You ain’t seen anything of a man in a brown suit hereabouts?”’ asked Roost excitedly. “Why, yes, I see several hundred every day,” answered the gateman with a touch of sarcasm. At the same time he reached for the ticket that Roost held open in his hand. “Chicago train right over here, track three,” he instructed, punching the ticket, and returning it. “Might be that your friend, Brown, is already aboard.” “P’raps so,” agreed Roost as he started for track three. ‘“Mebbe I can catch him before she pulls out.” | The car porter insisted upon another ex- amination before he would permit Roost to enter the train, but once aboard, the cow- boy went from coach to coach in a hurried hunt for a man with a brown suit. He found several, but inquiry proved them to be not the one he was looking for. He continued his search until he reached the rear coach, and had started on the re- turn trip when he suddenly discovered that the train was in motion. “Great jumpin’ jack - rabbits!” he ex- claimed as he started for the nearest plat- form. “I’ve gotter get off!” He found the brakeman just closing the vestibule doors. “What’s eating you?” that individual inquired as Roost attempted to jerk one of the doors open. “T’ve gotter get off! to Chicago!” “What’re you doing on this train then?” I don’t want to go _demanded the brakeman. “T was lookin’ for a man,” answered Roost ambiguously. “Well, go ahead and find him, then,” advised the brakeman with a grin. “ You'll have plenty of. time. This is a through train and the next stop is Jennings, fifty miles away.” “And I can’t get off before then?” cried Roost in dismay. “Not unless you jump through a win- dow,” grinned the brakeman. “I wouldn’t Ghoo CO S