The Argosy, September 1915 — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

ONE-CYLINDER SAM. cination at the magic bauble. The boatman made a swift scrutiny of their faces. : To Rosalind harangue was without meaning. She tapped one foot restlessly upon the floor and looked about her. “Well, if you're sure you're not going to drop it, grab hold,” advised the boatman. The captain boy and his four assist- ants laid hold of the case and raised it gingerly from the table. ‘ “Which way, sir?” “ By way of the porch,” said Sam: “Careful, now! I’m responsible for this stuff, and I’d hate to have to re- place some of it—especially that brace- let. That’s it; steady! Take it easy.” The five boys moved slowly across the lobby to the main entrance, cling- ing grimly to the glazed box that con- tained so many wonderful trinkets. Their eyes, hitherto incurious con- cerning its contents, were now fasci- nated. “Nothing like a little judicious barking,’’ whispered the boatman to Rosalind as they followed in the rear of the procession. The owner of the bracelet was mys- tified. Something, she knew, had not been confided to her. But there was no time to demand an explanation. Out upon the porch the burden- bearers, breathing rapidly, turned in the direction indicated by Sam, and began a laborious, journey between tables and chairs. “Take it slowly,” cautioned the boatman. “ There’s no hurry.” his “Tf we don’t hurry, we'll have to . set it down!” gasped the captain. “It’s heavy!” “Tired, eh? Well, take a rest. No use running a chance of dropping it. Here—not that way! ‘Tilt the end of it up on the rail. There! Now ease up on it. That’s it. Take a breath- ing-spell.”” The show-case lay balanced across the railing of the veranda, while five boys recovered breath. One of them 6A 305 steadied it with a hand, while four mopped their brows. _Sam bent over the gaudy display beneath the glass, and seemed to be talking to himself. “Good stuff, some of that. It ought to sell high. I wouldn’t mind bidding on that brooch myself. But the bracelet— whew! That’s going high, Pll bet. Why, I know a dealer—” The boatman’s foot slipped and he lurched heavily against the case. There was a warning cry from the boy who balanced it upon its precarious perch, echoed by a sharp exclamation from Rosalind as the case upended and slid gently over the railing. An instant later it landed with a jingling crash on the gravel path, six feet below. Sam swore fervently at his own carelessness. “Quick!” he commanded. “* Get down there, you, and pick up the stuff! ”’ Five boys scrambled over the rail- ing and leaped to the ground. Rosa- lind, almost in a frenzy of solicitude for her precious property, started to run toward the nearest steps. She was pulled back. ‘“S-sh! Stay here!’’ commanded the boatman. “ Watch!” He leaned over the railing and looked down upon the wreckage, amid which his uniformed helpers were al- ready on their knees, heedless of bro- ken glass and intent only upon retriev- ing the treasures that had come such a melancholy cropperf. Bit by bit they rescued the miscel- laneous donations to the cause of Bel- gian relief. Bit by bit they tossed aside the broken glass and piled in a loose heap the gaudy gifts that had been so tenderly guarded. “Watch!” repeated Sam in a whis- per. Rosalind watched, but she was still bewildered. A moment later her lips parted and her eyes widened with alarm. | “Keep still!’’ cautioned her com- panion. “‘ I saw it, too, It’s the black- haired one, isn’t it?” COPMICLOOOKS (E@)