Argosy, Vol. 111, No. 1 — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

Garret Smith Author of “ After a Million Years,” “On the Brink of 2000,”’ etc. COMPLETE IN CHAPTER I. AN UNUSUAL REQUEST. RASPING “ Come in!” echoed Brad- well’s knock. The young ex-convict thrust open the dingy law-office door and faced the man whose testimony had cost him a year in State prison. As the grizzled figure in the chair swung his big spectacles into line with the des- perate determination in his stalwart young visitor’s expression and bearing, he sprang to his feet in alarm. “Stand back!’”? he commanded. “ Not another step. So, Bradwell, you’ve come for your revenge, I suppose. You poor, young fool! You want to add felonious assault to your accomplishments. I heard of the threat you made in Merton’s bar last night. You can’t get out of here with- out being caught.” ? Mingled shame and protest crimsoned the visitor’s prison-pallid face. Neverthe- less, a faint gleam of whimsical contempt sparkled in the troubled blue eyes. Uncon- sciously he braced his broad shoulders and added an inch to his lithe six-foot frame. The old man’s fright gave him just the needed moral advantage, yet when he spoke it was with respectful humility. “You are mistaken, Mr. Warren. I’m 31 THIS ISSUE. not after revenge. I was drunk last night and don’t know what I said. That’s over for good. I’m not blaming any one but myself. I’m going away at once, and quietly. I’m- going to try to start over again somewhere. I want a fair show, and I want a little help from you.”’ | The lawyer flashed instantly from fear to contemptuous indignation. ‘Want me to agree to keep quiet about your performance hereafter, so you can set- tle in some innocent burg an’ skin ’em alive! Well, I won't. If I get word of you anywhere in the country I’ll write ’em and tell ’em to look out for you.” “Now yowre megaphoning,” Bradwell retorted. “‘ You’ve hit on just what I want. I’m going to ask you to write that letter now. Just write the worst you can truth- fully say about me; a sort of letter of dis- credit. I want it to take with me.”’ The lawyer was staring at him in sus- picious amazement. ‘You say you're not drunk to-day?’’ he asked. ‘‘ What sort. of fool joke is this?’’ ‘“ No, ’m not joking,” the other hastened on. ‘I’m perfectly sane and sober, and deadly in earnest. I’ve known of plenty of cases of poor devils in bad as I am, who’ve tried to go away on the quiet, under new names, and live down their pasts. They’ve GomiGcisoo (C SS (CO