The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 1 — page 32: what you’re looking at

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

22 | with its big white arch and its plaza, Dr. Bowen could identify. -This was Prospect Park, and there was a very strong chance, indeed, that the in- fernal box might be hidden beneath a bush, somewhere in its very extensive depths. Yes, that seemed to be it, be- cause the girl was preparing to cross the street—or no, it was not, for -she had stepped out merely to take another car. Dr. Bowen smiled faintly as he scur- ried after. Here was his old friend, the Flatbush Avenue trolley, once more, and luckily enough, not one of the steel cars with the- middle door that would have precluded any hiding of one entering pas- senger from another. This was one of the cross-seat variety, and Miss Catter- son was making for her favorite spot well forward, while Dr. Jim selected the cor- ner of the platform that was beginning to seem like home. And so another nickel had gone into the till of the B. R. T. His fingers, fum- bling the remaining coins, found half a dollar, a quarter, and a dime, and Dr. Bowen shuddered. What if the girl contemplated a ride on a railroad train? There was a station down in this direction somewhere; he had seen it when he left the subway. What if she elected to buy a ticket that cost more than one dollar and eighty-five cents? To that extreme limit of his re- sources he would stick doggedly, but if she went beyond it he would have the task of going back to Catterson and re- porting complete failure! “Say! The railroad station — where is it?” he asked suddenly of the conduc- tor after many agitated minutes of riding. “Long Island? We passed it. Get off and walk back three blocks.” ‘““T don’t want'to go there; I just want- ed to know,” the man from Hallas ex- plained, witha sigh of relief, and turned from the astonished stare to watch Miss Catterson’s slim shoulders again. They were taking a considerable ride this time. They came to the end of Flat- bush Avenue and rumbled on into Brook- THE ARGOSY. lyn’s denser business section and still on; over there was the Borough Hall, which he remembered, and the tall, light- -com- plexioned office building he recalled as— Dr. Bowen stepped off suddenly. The car had stopped on a loop and all hands were leaving. Helen Catterson, fixed stare straight ahead, with all the futile earnestness of- the deranged, seemed firmly decided on her latest course. Her shadow glancing up at the sign as they passed from the square into the wide, quiet street, ob- served that they were headed down Mon- tague Street now and smiled grimly. If he gained nothing else from the eve- ning, and this kind of chase went on until midnight, he would at least have acquired a working knowledge of Brooklyn. | Per- haps it was destiny. Perhaps, if Catter- son’s five hundred for any reason failed to materialize, some one was going to offer him a job driving a wagon around the town he could not leave. Perhaps, it occurred to Dr. Bowen as they topped the rise and he looked ahead, they were to walk across the East River and visit Manhattan. Boat lights were moving around, out there on the dark .water, and whistles blowing, and the. smell of the river came to his nostrils. Down this way, once upon a time, Brooklyn’s aristocracy had lived and had its being. Massive old homes were everywhere, some of them converted to business purposes, some of them dark, some of them lighted. They stretched away to right and left | at every crossing, and some of the largést were to be inspected more closely, it seemed; for when the choice lay between walking down to the water-front or turn- ing aside, Miss Catterson made briskly down ahead. Once more she was seeking semething! James Bowen, M. D., taking up some of the distance between them, concluded that it was house-numbers this time. Twice she stopped for an instant and then moved on. EORMNICLOOKS the last cross-street and hurried : (C@)