The Argosy, Vol. 81, No. 4 — page 192: what you’re looking at

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

7158 Rector’s and Shanley’s. _He reckoned him- self after these experiences a very definite devil—almost a Broadway institution. Cochrane waited. He waited until a crestfallen Gaynor, ac- companied by a noisy, would-be genial, assertive director, one Sloan, came to ac- knowledge with all apologies that the check had been duly met. Cochrane’s manner was ominous, and the demeanor of the two merchants was not rendered more cheerful by the inspector’s cheery remark, as he came out of his office. “Mornin’, Mr. Sloan, mornin’. Funny business, this! Mr. Cochrane is the nephew of Edward C. Cochrane, that owns the Iris and a dozen like her tradin’ here. How in the world you got the idea you were being swindled beats me. Gosh, that’s rich. Nephew’ of a man that could buy your con- cern up, and never know he’d given the check. ‘Well, I suppose you considered you had good ground. Good-by, Mr. Cochrane. I'll be over your side some day and if you’re there I’ll be glad to have a-trot round with you. Hit some of the high spots on Broad- way, what?” And his portentous wink in- dicated a will to be wicked, which totally belied his innocent nature. Cochrane bade him farewell, with a cor- dial invitation to come over and do his worst, and, turning to go, was met by the outstretched hand of Mr. Sloan, who laughed without merriment. “Well, well, so we locked up Ted Coch- rane’s nephew, bless my heart and soul. There’s a funny side to this,” he laughed, with heavy, insincere geniality. “The boys’ll never forget it. The joke’ll be on us. And it’s going to cost me a dinner, Mr. Cochrane, yes, the best dinner the city can give, with all the frills and fizz we can get,” he concluded. Cochrane eyed him. “Tt’s going to cost you more than a din- ner, Mr. Sloan,” he said solemnly. “Now, don’t be sore, Mr. Cochrane. Come round to the office and talk it over. Can’t talk here. I’ve got something round there with a bite to it—the best lubri- cator for stiff feelings. Come on, my ma- chine’s at the door.” ~ “Mr. Sloan, my lawyer will come round and test that lubricant. Did Mr. Gaynor here tell you of the business I’ve lost through his action? I’ve been shabbily treated and I’m going to get my own back. THE ARGOSY. I warned Mr. Gaynor in the most solemn way of the error he was permitting himself to fall into, but he persisted. “If I was a poor man, and helpless, I would have to put up with the tyranny, and be glad to get off, but it happens I am not, and I will use every penny of my fortune to get even. In the States, if people jump without looking where they’re going to land, they grin and bear it if they break things. You’ve got to learn that on this side.” ‘“D’ye mean to tell me you’re going to pull us for damages? Why, it’s out- rageous!”’ spluttered Sloan. ‘Damme, it’s blackmail.” They were outside the door of the in- spector’s office. “Did you hear that last remark, Mr. In- spector?” called Cochrane. The inspector came to the door. “Dangerous talk, gentlemen,” he said. “I heard it, and my advice is to go away and talk things over quietly.” They went down to the street. “Qutrageous?” repeated Cochrane. “Any more so than false imprisonment, illegal ar- rest, and loss of money? I don’t want to talk to you, Mr. Sloan, but my lawyer will be instructed to sue your company for five thousand pounds damages for their action, and you personally for the same amount for slander. With the inspector’s evidence I rather think I have a case.” “Five thousand pounds! Look here, step into this car. Step in here and let us talk this over quietly without lawyers. I spoke in haste, and I’m ready to apologize. I was taken by surprise. We’ve made a mistake, or at least this fathead here has made a mistake,” glaring at Gaynor, “and we’re J ready to do handsomely by you, but five . _ thousand pounds!” Sloan’s voice rose to an incredulous shriek. “Very well, Mr. Sloan, I'll come, but without prejudice to my future actions.” They: stepped into the car, and were whirled to George street. There, Gaynor dismissed, Cochrane and Sloan were soon in — earnest consultation. Now and again raised voices penetrated the glass screen of the private offce, but were immediately lowered again. Sloan’s arguments were first calm and firm, next heated, then tremulous, finally plaintive. Cochrane was uniformly quiet, uninterested, almost distrait. “T won't. Ill fight you. It’s fishy any- way. Why should you try to sell a fifty GEomichbooks (E@)