The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 124: what you’re looking at

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

114 his vehicle he made a sarcastic remark as to the weight-limit. “That’s all right, bo,” said Saville cheerily. ‘You'll smile when we part.” Twenty minutes later the boxes were in Saville’s room at the Palantic, and, locking the door, he stood regarding his booty with a triumphant eye. “So far so good,” said he softly. ‘‘Nine points of the law to me, anyway. Now I’ve got to get busy once more.”’ It was a murky afternoon and the thick, foggy drizzle characteristic of San Fran- cisco was blowing in from the sea. Saville glanced out of his window with an ap- proving nod. It would be dark early that evening. He ruthlessly broke the seal on one of the boxes and, unlocking it, raised the lid. Then he packed into a moderate-sized portmanteau as many of the paper bags of coins as it would hold, which was about one-quarter of the boxful. Saville frowned slightly. “Tt will have to be two at a time,” he muttered, ‘but I don’t suppose anybody will pay any particular heed. I might be a drummer for all they know.” He filled a second bag and then threw himself on the bed, where he remained for over an hour. It was now close upon six o’clock. Sa- ville left the room, carefully locking the door after him, and made his way unos- tentatiously to the huge dining-saloon, where, ensconced in a corner well out of sight, he ordered a light repast. He had no desire to run against Mr. Cordwainer just then. His meal over, he returned to his bedroom. ‘““A quarter to seven,” he muttered. think I may venture now.” Taking the two bags, he left the room once more. He avoided the elevator and passed down the stairs and through the vestibule with a light, brisk step. Any casual observer would have sup- posed his burden to be a light one, but the muscles of Saville’s arms and shoulders ached with the effort which he put forth to feign buoyancy. sof -locked the boxes once more. THE ARGOSY. He found Andrew Trail at the appointed spot—with one portmanteau. ‘The ex- change was made swiftly. “Bring back both bags,’’ muttered Sa- ville. ‘Clementina and Fifth Street.” Their various rendezvous had been all prearranged, but not in their precise order —that Saville decided as they went. On his way back to the hotel he stepped into a store and bought another bag about the same size as the one he had. Then he returned to the Palantic and entered with the air of having forgotten something. It was the work of a few minutes only to fill the bags as he had done before. Again he left and at the fresh meeting- place the first maneuver -was repeated. Twice more the perspiring Saville sallied forth from the hotel to be met by the no less industrious Andrew Trail, and at last almost exhausted he stood in his room panting and exultant. The two boxes were still there, it was true, and full, but instead of good Ameri- can dollars, they contained a select assogt- ment of flint stones and scrap iron. Sa- ville had made his return journeys ‘“‘in bal- last,” as he humorously termed it. After a brief breathing interval he stuffed some wads of newspaper atop and To imitate the bank seal presented no insuperable difficulty, and at last Saville stood back and proudly surveyed his handiwork. “Good enough for old man Carmichael himself,”’ he observed softly, ‘but I guess they’ll not be opened until Stanbury turns up and the storm breaks. Now for the next move.” Saville hunted up Mr. George Cord- wainer in his private office. ‘See here,’”’ said he to the hotel pro- prietor, ““you know something of what is on with regard to me and the Columbian, T guess?” The other grinned. “Sure,” he replied. ‘You have drawn a heap of bucks and you are taking it to Stanbury. I saw you lug it into the lift myself a few hours ago. I only trust that no smart crooks saw it as well. I’ve got no ECORMMICLOOOKS (C@)