The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 2 — page 69: what you’re looking at

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

GETTING AWAY FROM THOMPSON. ‘Do what?” the small man snarled. “Settle for it later,’ Mr. Farnham re- peated, with a stern smile. “Settle for it zow/’’ Mr. Cook corrected. “You didn’t wait for no ‘later’ to hit me!”’ “So just omit the outraged stuff—which doesn’t impress me a bit, by the way—and let’s hear your views on the damage done to your wagon. Well? How much?” Farn- ham asked calmly, thrusting a suggestive hand into his pocket. ‘‘This is spot cash, you know.” Mr. Cook’s angry breath was drawn in with a whistle. “You don’t figger on paying anything for killin’ a team o’ hosses or injuring me, I take it?” “Not a cent!” Farnham said cheerfully. “Have it your own way, then, and call it what you like,’’ Mr. Cook laughed harshly. “You gimme a thousand dollars cash and I won’t sue you for ten thousand!” “Give you—what?” “Qne thousand dollars, spot cash—and you're getting off cheap.” “That,” said Mr. Farnham, ‘‘would seem to be altogether a matter of the viewpoint. I’d meant to offer you one hundred, but [ll stretch a point and give you one hundred and fifty, if you take it quick. That covers everything, you know, and you sign a quit claim on the spot.” This time Mr. Cook came quite close to Mr. Farnham. ‘““Mister,” said he, ‘‘this county’s been plumb infested with you reckless, butcher- ing scoundrels, tearing up the roads and killing people and stock and I dunno what else; and when I heard that thing hit and felt myself flying through the air, I swore solemn that I’d get the last penny out of the man that owned that car, if I lived to do it. ‘And a couple of minutes back I felt the same way until I see they was ladies in the party and they was pretty well shook up, and then I says:to myself that mebbe, for their sakes, I’d better let you down easy and I done it. But I ain’t usually as patient as all that, mister, and if you get me mad I won’t feel the same way very long. You hand over that thousand before I lose my temper, or I’ll sweat you through the courts till you ain’t got one red cent left t’ call your own!”’ To some extent Mr. Farnham misjudged his man. He smiled superciliously. “One-fifty,” said he. ‘And I have a 25] temper of my own, by the way. I want to do the right thing, and even a little bit more, but if you try putting over any more of that tiresome tommyrot, you’ll not get so much as a plugged nickel!” ‘Mister, do you mean that?” the injured one inquired emotionally. think you can get out of this crime for a hundred and fifty dollars?” “T know it!” “Well, by—by—” began Mr. Cook; and then, perhaps remembering the ladies, he failed to finish the utterance. Instead, he walked straight to the front of Jane’s car, bent low and _ squinted. Matches came from his pocket; he struck one of them and squinted more closely, and then he rose with a jerk. ‘“G 1200!” said he, savagely. that'll be about all, mister!”’- Another jerk and his back was toward Mr. Farnham and his heavy tramp sounded suddenly, as Mr. Cook, with shoulders square and hands swinging, moved straight down the path of white light, walked to the end of it and vanished in the inky night that lay beyond! More than a little astonished, Farnham stared after him, waited through several vain minutes for Mr. Cook to change his mind and return. But the heavy tread died out at last and Mr. Farnham shrugged his shoulders and started back for the clearing. ‘He wouldn’t talk reason,” he reported briefly. ‘‘He’ll be back later, I think. Ill see if the car is still in running order and bring it in here.” ‘‘And then set up the tent,” Jane said wearily. “Of course, in a jiffy! “JT guess You’re tired!” Mr. Farnham muttered, with deep concern. “I’m so tired—’ Jane confessed. “But 7 am not!” Mrs. Hapworthy put in spitefully from the shadows. cannot recall ever having felt more thor- oughly refreshed and rested than at this moment! James, if he has life enough left to talk, will assure you that he feels as I do!” ‘““Well—of course,’ Mr. Farnham said soothingly. “It has been a hard day, but we'll all sleep just that much better. Ill rush—”’ ‘Sleep in that wretched tent, do you mean?” Mrs. Hapworthy cried. “Or outdoors, if you like. robes to spare now and—”’ ‘Well, we—James and I—will not sleep,” We've got CORMMICLOOOKS “You honestly — “Really, I - (C@)