The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 1 — page 165: what you’re looking at

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

REINDEER ON ascent, was now closed by a stout steel door. He grasped the ponderous latch and fumbled with it vainly. With something like panic rushing upon him, he put down his load again and galloped about the roof in search of an- other stairway. But exploration was a simple matter and a discouraging one. There were water tanks, skylights with iron gratings, a couple of little storage coops for water pails and the like, and innumerable pipes, tubes, wires and ven- tilating devices. He knew in a moment, with a sickening, sinking sensation, that the famous, but plainly idiotic, architects of the structure had provided but one staircase for the roof, whereas a dozen would not have been too many. He assailed the steel door now with grim fury. His kicks and blows upon its unyielding panels must certainly be heard by the ignoramus whose duty it had been to see that the roof was clear before he closed the door. The ignoramus would come and open it again, and then there would be a reckoning; the colonel would free his mind of a growing weight of care and indignation. In a moment he was exhausted, and he paused for breath and looked up at the now illuminated face of the great clock on the Metropolitan Tower. It registered five-thirty, and with characteristic inde- pendence he took out his watch to ver- ily it. “Every office in the beastly building closed by this time!” he exclaimed aloud. “Great heaven! have I got to spend the night on this ghastly roof, without food or shelter—all alone!” “Not alone, at least, colonel,’ said a voice back of him, and he started and swung about nervously. “ Why—why, Spencer, what are you doing here?” he demanded, with a mix- ture of relief and challenge. “T am waiting and hoping to escape,” said the younger man, glancing wistfully at the steel door. ‘Where were you when I was looking about?” Crofton inquired. THE ROOF. 155 ‘TI was sitting in one of those little | shacks, out of the wind and frost,” was the answer. ‘““ But how came you here? you doing on this roof?” “IT might ask the same questions of you, sir,” said Spencer. ‘I fancy that we should both have to become confiden- tial in order to clear the matter up.” The colonel snorted angrily, but his mind went quickly back to the main issue. ‘IT say, don’t you know of any way to get us out of this mess?” he asked sharply. “T am not familiar with the building,” said Spencer. ‘‘I thought you might know about the system of the watchmen, or something like that.” ““T occupy an office here, in the day- time,” Crofton returned crossly; “I have- n’t frequented the roof, and I haven’t prowled about the place at night. You take the affair rather coolly, I must. say! Do you know that we may have to stay here until morning? ” ‘““T was thinking,” said Spencer quietly, “ that it might be longer than that. This is Saturday night, and I suppose the build- ing is practically closed over Sunday. Then, you see, Monday is Christmas, so it will be much the same as Sunday. I What were wonder if the watchmen will take the — trouble to visit the roof again before — Tuesday.” The colonel paled slightly, and after a tense moment of passion he burst forth in a torrent of shocking abuse of the build- ing, its designers, the administrative force and an indefinite portion of the human race, including Spencer. ~ “You have a number of parcels there,” said Spencer, showing no resentment. “Perhaps some of them contain food or some form of nourishment.”’ “Those! ” cried Crofton witheringly, “are idiotic Christmas gifts! I was tak- ing them home, to delight the heart of my daughter,” he added, with fresh bitterness. ‘“* Beware the Greeks bringing gifts,’ ” Spencer quoted facetiously. “What do you mean? ”’ thundered the colonel. COnnieosooOolkSs (S@)