The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 1 — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

THE option it would *put the firm of Preston & Finch on Easy Street for a year or two.” Preston, who had become quite as in- terested in the proceedings as his part- ner, agreed with him heartily. “What do you know about Swandorf?” Finch asked suddenly. ‘‘I mean _ per- sonally.” S “ Personally, nothing,” Preston rubbed his nose reflectively, ‘‘ except that he’s rather an old sport from all [ hear. I have seen him dancing at Sherry’s.” “Yes, and you’ve seen other staid business men dancing there, too,” grimaced Finch. “ That doesn’t mean anything. He—he doesn’t impress you as the sort of a man who would impress the average young woman, say Miss Hamilton?” Preston laughed, asking Finch to study that question himself and see how foolish it appeared upon analysis. “But why do you ask?” Preston added. “Oh, I don’t know. I—” The tele- phone bell interrupted him, and Preston answered it. He spoke for a few sec- onds, saying, “ Thank you, very good of you to let us know,” then hung up, and resumed his seat. “What did Redmond want?” Finch. “Why,” said Preston, ‘“ he wanted to let us know that by mistake his clerk had enclosed the letter to us in the papers he returned, and—”’ An interruption came in the shape of a roar from Finch, who bounded from his chair and faced Preston tragically. Well, what now?” asked the latter. “What now!” Finch regarded him as a pedagogue might face down a stupid child. “What now! Why, you fool, don’t you see that if Swandorf gets hold of that letter showing why Redmond & Redmond wouldn’t permit Squires to take that option he’ll kick over the traces, too. If he sees the thing the fat’s in the fire for sure.” He seized his hat. asked MOTIVE. ‘Come on, Preston, we’ve got to get that letter before he has time to read it. It means everything.” Preston, whose mind had been else- where, could easily see the truth of this statement and he became hardly less ex- cited than his partner. He snatched his hat from the top of the desk and ran out into the hall in the wake of: the’ fleeing Finch. An empty taxicab was passing as the two men reached the sidewalk, and Finch hailed it, ordering the man to break the speed laws to Forty-Second Street. The cabman did not do this, but he got the pair to the offices of Swandorf & Co. in good time. They dashed up the stairs and present- ed their cards to a stenographer. “T don’t think Mr. Swandorf is in,” she said. “ But I'll see.” She plugged in at the little switch- board and shortly. reported that the man they sought had gone for the day. “Ts his secretary in?’ asked Finch. ‘““T should like to see some one who could speak for him. I am Mr. Finch of Finch & Preston.’’ The girl nodded, spoke over the phone and in a few minutes Swandorf’s secre- tary, a young woman, was standing be- fore them. ‘““Mr. Swandorf has gone to his sum- mer home at Larchmont,” she said. “ He took your papers with him, Mr. Finch. I know that because he instructed me to place them in his portfolio.” “You don’t know whether or not he looked at them,’’ inquired Finch, with an affectation of indifference. ‘“T know he did not,” smiled the capa- ble young woman, whose eye-glasses glit- tered professionally. “‘ He was hurrying to get away and when your papers came he simply tossed them to me with the re- quest to see that they were placed in his bag. That means, of course, he will study them over the week-end.” “T see,” Finch nodded. “TI thank you very much.” He turned to the door. ‘““Come on Preston.” COMMICLOOOKS 139 (C@)