The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 1 — page 170: what you’re looking at

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

160 “Well, I’m not thinking of losing the whole treasure, to-day!” he said sarcas- tically. “If you have no suggestion more sane than that, we will continue to walk and try to think of pleasant things. J still have one cigar.” . fellow citizens are making merry down After dark the storm abated, the clouds broke, and the stars shone, but the cold grew more penetrating and bitter. The two men were forced to run and to beat their arms vigorously, and the situation grew tense. Suddenly, as they crept from their shelters for the twentieth time since dusk, and began to run up and down, a pe- culiar radiance shot up from below, in Madison Square. It warmed the cold whiteness of the Metropolitan Tower and turned the ridges of ice upon the cor-_ nices to burnished gold. ““What’s that!’ cried Crofton, and hastened to the edge of the roof. Spencer was there first, and he leaned far over the coping and: immediately saw the cause of the illumination. “Merry Christmas, Colonel Crofton!” he cried. ‘‘ We are on the verge of the blessed festival of the Yuletide. This blaze of glory is from the Madison Square Christmas tree, and our joyous there.” The colonel drew back. in profound disgust. ‘““T never want to hear the word Christ- mas again!” he fumed. ‘‘ Fancy! . I was giving a Christmas party at my house this evening! If I ever get out of this scrape alive I’ll be laughed at for the rest of my life. ask me a dozen times a week what I was doing on the roof.” “And what were you doing, don’t mind?” inquired Spencer. “What were you doing?” shouted the colonel angrily. ‘We will let the question drop,’ Spencer. “ Listen! they are singing down there now. They have a great volunteer chorus, you know, to as catiet@es carols, with an orchestra.” if you -department! Every fool that I know will . > said THE ARGOSY. ‘ Christmas fiddlesticks!”’ muttered the older man. ‘“ Ragtime would be more appropriate for this infernal city!” From the square below came a glad burst of eager voices: “God rest ye, merry gentlemen; Let nothing you dismay.” “Throw something down at them!” yelled the colonel. ‘“ I’m too nervous and upset to stand that sort of piffle.” “It seems to me very beautiful and impressive,’ said Spencer. ‘“‘ Now they are singing ‘ Good King Wenceslaus.’ I tell you it brings back the sentiment of old-time Christmas festivals.” The colonel choked in his fury and was forced to run violently to the end of the roof and back. ‘Look here!” he thundered, planting — in front of his irritating compan- ion, “‘ I’m going to get out of this scrape eal Give that beastly necklace, for all it’s worth, to that rabble down there if you want to, but get help!! Get the fire Get the whole police force! Get anything!” ‘‘ My original suggestion stands,” said Spencer calmly. ‘‘ The idea seems better than ever, now. Throw your necklace right down into that blaze of light and it won't lie in the snow very long. Offer ten thousand dollars as a reward for its return and for your relief, and I’m sure that help will arrive here inside of ten minutes.” “Do it, for Heaven’s sake, and stop talking about it!” groaned the desperate man. Spencer retired quickly to the other end of the roof and disappeared within his shack. He was gone so long that the colonel called to him impatiently, but he came back at last with a square of glass in his, hand. Crofton produced the glittering, daz- zling string of gems, and the younger man selected one of the larger stones and scratched the glass deeply with it. “Help! Help!” he wrote, in bold characters, with a whimsical smile upon COPMICLOOOKS (C@)