The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 1 — page 171: what you’re looking at

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

REINDEER ON THE ROOF, his face. And then he composed a brief, clear message to the finder of the treas- ure, stating that its owner was confined upon the high roof in a perishing condi- tion, and would pay the sum of ten thou- sand dollars to the person who returned the necklace and brought instant help to the sufferer. Working with cool deliberation, Spen- cer padded the piece of glass with cot- ton wool from the jeweler’s vellum box, then tied it firmly to the diamond neck- lace with narrow white ribbons from the same source. “ You’re not going to wrap up the jew- els?” Crofton queried. “Not a bit,” said Spencer. “‘ You can’t break a diamond, and I want them to sparkle as they fall through the air.” “Who'll do the throwing?” asked the colonel anxiously. “As a former star of amateur base- ball, I willingly offer my services,” said. Spencer. The colonel nodded sullenly, and his eyes grew heavy with worry and belated consternation as he watched the younger man advance to the coping and measure the distance to the circle of bright light around the great Christmas tree. “The tree is opposite Twenty-Fourth Street,” murmured Spencer. “ Well, I ought to throw a distance of two blocks without much trouble. Are you satisfied, colonel? Shall I go on with the scheme?”’ The colonel nodded silently, tragically, and bowed his head upon his breast, but he raised his eyes again covertly as Spen- cer drew back, “ wound up” for the throw, and then sent the glittering prize hurtling out through the, air, straight at the blazing target of the tree of light. The suspense was too much for the col- onel. He darted forward and leaned over the coping with Spencer. “See!” cried the latter, “‘ it struck the tree; it bounded off! Look there! A man is jumping for it. He’s got it! He’s got it!” ‘“ But what will we get? That’s the big question!” moaned Crofton. Ir A 161 “Wait!” cautioned Spencer. the time of all for heroic patience.” The colonel stamped up and down in the hard-packed snow. At intervals he ran to the cornice and peered down at the throng, then darted to the door of the stairway and listened, with agony painted graphically upon his face. Ten minutes passed, a quarter hour, twenty minutes; then the two men heard a metal door flung open. “The door at the bottom of the stairs!” yelled Crofton. They heard muffled voices from below, “Sounds like a crowd,” muttered the colonel. “Merry Christmas!” cried Spencer. “It’s Santa Claus and his reindeers com- ing over the roof as they did of yore!” A key rattled in the lock, and the door was flung open. A watchman of the building stepped out, looking rather dis- turbed and annoyed, and he was followed by two policemen, a smartly dressed civil- ian—and by Flora Crofton. “Merry Christmas, daddy!” the girl cried gaily. “ Now is - The colonel became reserved and -dig- . nified. He dismissed the policemen and the watchmen politely, and with some small gratuities, then turned to the others. ‘IT am happy to rescue you from such a wretched plight, Colonel Crofton,” said the man who held the necklace, “ and as I need the money in my business, I am happy to be the one to claim the hand some rewar Crofton looked at him coldly. “ T think we have met before,” he said. ‘“ Aren’t you Mr. Spencer’s brother?” ‘To be sure!” cried the rescuer gaily. ‘“‘ That’s all the better, isn’t it?” “ How did this extraordinary situation come about, if I may be so curious?” de- manded the colonel. ‘J will explain,” said Jack Spencer un- blushingly. “I didn’t want the necklace and the reward to fall into unworthy hands, so I took time to telephone to my brother at a club near the square and tell him to be ready to catch the prize when COPMICLOOOKS GoM