The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 4 — page 48: what you’re looking at

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

614 don’t you denounce me to the detective bureau on 158th Street as the scoundrel who robbed the three people he loves best in all the world?” “I may,” said Fanning dryly, as he mo- tioned toward the chair. “It all depends on what you say in the next half hour, and how susceptible of proof your statements prove to be.” Tom sat down. A great sob surged up through his chest and throat. He lurched sideways, threw his arm on _ Fanning’s dining-room table, and iaid his head, face down, upon them. “Fanning,” he moaned, now thoroughly subdued and broken, ‘“‘man that I love next to my father, do you think this thing of me?” The boyish cry, the youthfulness of the supine head, the tousled hair, moved Fan- ning strangely. Again he remembered the days when he was a poor, struggling stu- dent, working summers that he might go to college winters, and Tom one of the favored few who had ample means, not only allowed him by an indulgent father, but money of his own for the manner of expending which he was accountable to no one. And the memory of many, many favors that fell to the poor student from the pocket of the rich one brought tears to the eyes that a moment before had been stern, and glittering, and vengeful. He got up from the lounge and put an arm across Tom’s shoulders. “Tom,” he said, and there was a sob in the strong man’s voice, ‘isn’t there a straight story to tell? Don’t leave things all in the air like this. Let me tell you something, old man. On that very morn- ing when the robbery was discovered your father’s heart was almost broken. Some- how he suspected you, for he tried his best to stop the police investigation. “The inspector wanted a list of the stolen articles, with a full description. Your mother and Joyce made out that list. Your father, who had done so much for me, pleaded with me not to let the list go in, not to let the investigation go on. I promised. “Joyce came with the list, all ignorant of what was in your father’s mind, and your father almost fainted. Your mother took charge of him, and I took Joyce out on the side veranda and told her your father’s wishes. She could not understand. ‘Then THE ARGOSY, your mother came to us with your cuff- link which she found near her bureau. Then Joyce understood, and tore up the list and threw the bits away. ‘Later, she found the letter from A. G., and we read it together. One thousand dollars is a large or small sum of money according to conditions. I knew it was much more than you could command, and told Joyce to read the next letter that came in that handwriting. “T told her that if no letter came, indi- cating that you had paid the gambling debt, things looked bad. If another did come, you were innocent of the theft. That was yesterday—we will call it now. When I got to the job I was pleased to find you there without a trace of liquor. But you changed my pleasure to pain when you told me that you had paid your gam- bling debts. My first inward query was Where did you get a thousand dollars? “Now I find you prowling around my house at midnight. Tom, can’t you see that things look black—for you?”’ “My God!” Tom raised his head and Fanning looked, with a pang of pity, upon a white, drawn face that seemed not Tom’s at all, but an older man’s. “TI know—I thought dad moved as if he was awake. He saw me in the room, Fan- ning.” “T judged as much, but he would not, of course, tell any one that.” “No, God bless him, the dear old dad!” Then the clouds were shattered and the storm broke. Great sobs racked and tor- tured the young fellow’s breast, and he wept as men weep when they try long to suppress their tears and then break down. “Good old dad! He would have shielded me! He thought I was a thief and still stood by me. And I was paying for all this wealth of love by filling my skin full of rotten booze and gambling myself into hell. And good old Joyce! She tore up the list to help save me. Does my mother—” He could go no further, and another fit of sobbing shook his frame. “No, your mother has no such thought,”’ Tom was clearly in a highly nervous state. “Rest a while on the lounge, old man,” Fanning told him. “If you feel sleepy, sleep. We have all the time there is. We'll get the worm out of the apple some- how.” | COmiclbooks (C@