The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 1 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

12 merely permitted his smile to die, shrugged his shoulders, and with no undue dis- turbance moved upward. They were sparing of their light in this ‘household. That soft glow from the front room was the only illumination in the up- per hallway. Dr. Bowen considered it for a moment as he paused to listen, be- cause it had seemed to him that ever so faintly another low moan had issued from somewhere on the floor. It was not re- peated. A perplexed grunt escaped him, and he walked into the lighted apartment—and the elderly man in dressing-gown and slip- ‘pers rose hurriedly from his armchair, laid a finger_on his lips for a moment as he rested heavily on his cane, and breathed: “ Sssh!” There was something indefinably queer about him. Dr. Bowen could not put it into words, but it was there. Mystery seemed to enshroud the gentleman—or was it merely anxiety?—or was Dr. Jim growing imaginative under the stress of his own troubles? Without comment he watched the evi- dent Mr. Catterson hobble to a passage- way and close the door softly, watched him shut the hall door as well, and then heard: ' ‘“‘ My dear doctor, your coming is a tre- mendous relief!” “T’m glad of that, sir,” said the man from Hallas. “ The patient—” “Tn the sense that you expect, Dr. Whinnys, there is no patient,” Catterson informed him, with a small, strained smile. * Will you permit me to do all the talk- ing, sir, for a little? There may not be even a single minute to waste at just this stage.” “With pleasure,’ said Dr. Bowen, “ but—” ‘We'll sit over here, Dr. Whinnys, on this couch in the alcove, where our voices | will be less likely to travel,” the elder man went on with growing agitation. “Thank you. I am Mr. Catterson, of course, who sent for you. Doctor, you can spare me an hour or two?” THE ARGOSY. “Of course.” Mr. Catterson laid an uncertain hand on Dr. Bowen’s knee. “Doctor,” his hoarse undertone pur- sued swiftly, ‘“ you have been most ear- nestly commended to me for the purpose which prompted my calling you. I am going to beg you, Dr. Whinnys, to com- bine medicine with—ah—something else for a little. I am going to ask that you use to its fullest extent the gift of —ah— acute and constructive observation, if I may so term it, for which you are noted. In short, I am asking that you abandon medicine, except as emergency may arise, and turn detective for one evening!” He paused, as if to consider his next words. Dr. Bowen sighed. Only one thing was plain: neither Polly nor Polly’s reputation had altered in twelve years. Perhaps he had evolved into a scientific detective, such as one finds in fiction occasionally; perhaps he had undertaken some other bizarre line which fitted him for Catter- son’s matter, whatever that might be. The sad certainty was that Dr. Jim Bowen would be wasting his own time and Mr. Catterson’s by listening further and permitting the latter gentleman to think him Polly Whinnys. He opened his lips to undeceive Mr. Catterson—but the gentleman was speaking again: ‘As to compensation, Dr. Whinnys, if you succeed you may ask almost any fee within reason. Whether you succeed or not, I shall gladly pay you five hundred dollars for your time.” Dr. Jim Bowen’s mouth closed so sud- denly that. the teeth clicked! CHAPTER V. THE BOX THAT VANISHED. 4 He chief disadvantage of being hu-. . man is that temptation dances ever just ahead, in one form or another, from the cradle to the grave—an uncomfort- able condition if one chances to own a conscience. Dr. Jim Bowen possessed one (€() DOOKS AAI (e()