The Argosy, Vol. 81, No. 4 — page 190: what you’re looking at

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

756 The salesman had the watch in his hand, and opened the case to examine the num- ber, which he then compared avith the num- ber in a huge calf-bound register on the desk. “Why, we’ve just sold this watch to-day. Where did you get it? Come, now,” roughly, ‘this looks mighty fishy. We sell this watch half an hour ago and now you come in to know its value.” “What’s that got to do with me? I don’t know anything about that. Gimme the ticker.” The barber was reaching for it, but the salesman grabbed him. “No, no you don’t. You explain this to the manager. I'll get into touch with the purchaser and see what has happened.” “That’s all fair and square, mister. You kin do that, quick an’ lively, Mr. Smarty, for I left ’im at my shop. There’s noth- in’ wrong about me, young feller. On’y this bloke, ’e come to me just now, wantin’ to sell this fer twen’y-five pouns. ’E tole me ‘twuz worth fifty an’ I nipped in ’ere to see. He’s waitin’.” With uncontrollable excitement, the little shopman hurried from behind the counter. His habitual suavity had been extinguished by fear. : “What’s that?” he sputtered. “He tried to sell you that watch for twenty-five pounds? Good Heavens! He paid for it— Merciful Powers! He paid me by check. I can see it all. He’s a shark, and his check’s not worth a penny.” “So that was ’is game, was it?” The barber’s tone was not free from admiration. “Mr. Gaynor! Mr. Gaynor!” the little man was yelling, and the customers at the counters all over the shop turned in well- bred surprise at the excited tones, while the other salesmen caught the contagious fever. Mr. Gaynor, dapper manager of the shop, hurried with little bird-like shufflings over to his perturbed subordinate. “See here, sir,” said the latter. “I’ve just learned that a man to whom I sold nearly eighty pounds worth of goods this afternoon, for which he paid twenty-five cash, giving his check for the rest, has tried to sell this watch for half value. He’s in this man’s shop now, and all we’ve got is a valueless check.” ~ The manager cut in. “FHe’s at this man’s shop, you say? Did he try to sell it to you?” turning to the barber. THE ARGOSY. “My oath, ’e did, sir, an’ damn near ’e come to doin’ it, too. On’y me savvy in comin’ ’ere saved me.” The barber took all the credit for the sagacity shown. “Call a policeman,” was the crisp order of Mr. Gaynor, a man whose first impulse was to act, and his next to discuss. The functionary being duly brought, Mr. Gaynor, the salesman, and the barber all told their stories together. The policeman held up a massive hand that blocked out all the shop.behind it and said magisterially: “Wan at atoime. Ye’ll be wastin’ mebbe vallyble minutes. Yez’ll be the boss here, sorr. Whut’s the thrubble now? Has this little divil been shwindlin’ ye?” with an aggressive look at the barber. ‘No, no. We’ve been swindled by a fel- low passing a valueless check,” replied Mr. Gaynor. ‘‘He’s being detained at this man S shop two doors off and I want him arrested, before he can get away. e “Thin sha-a-rp’s the wurrud an’ shmar’r-t’s the action,” said the policeman, turning abruptly and leading the way out, the surprised and somewhat scandalized cus- tomers hurriedly stepping out of his path. A few moments later Mr. James Coch- rane, glowing of face from the attentions of the masseur, looked up to see a procession of four, headed by the blue-clad Law, step over the threshold. . “That’s the man,” pointed out the barber and the salesman simultaneously. ‘‘Am Oi to take ’im?” the Law asked, and Mr. Gaynor echoed, “Take him? I should think so. I give this man in charge for uttering a valueless check. The exact charge can be framed later at the station.” The cool voice of Mr. Cochrane broke into the discussion. | ‘‘Am I the object of this conference, gen- tlemen? Oh, thank you, my watch, I be- lieve,” closing a firm hand on the repeater still held by Gaynor. “You rascal,” shouted that outraged one. “Let go that watch.” “Sure you’re not making a mistake? My name is James Cochrane and I pufchased that watch from Sweet’s not an hour ago.” “There’s no mistake, my fine fellow. Come along, constable. Joe,” to the assist- ant, ‘get a cab.” Joe “left, and Cochrane looked from one to the other. “This is very serious, sir,” he said to Gaynor. “You must be sure of your posi- Gomicbooks (E@)