Argosy, Vol. 111, No. 1 — page 50: what you’re looking at

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

40 Bradwell stammered at length, when the old man paused for breath. ‘Vou know perfectly well. I’ve trusted you alone in my office day after day. I suppose you thought because I did that I wasn't keeping close track of things. I was, though. You’ve stolen at least ten dollars’ worth of my cigars since you came here.”’ This anticlimax overcame Bradwell with relief and amusement. He laughed in the old blusterer’s face. ‘ Perfectly shameless!” snorted his ac- cuser. “Now, Mr. Matthews,” Bradwell soothed, ‘‘ don’t take it too hard. I ama bit entertained at your idea of trustfulness when you’ve been leaving your cigars out where they’d tempt me, hoping I’d fall for it, and counting them carefully each time you came in so you’d know when I did. But I didn’t. I’ve never touched one of your jolly old smokes. I happen to know who did, though, and could probably prove it by searching certain pockets. ‘However, I won’t. There’s, honor among us thieves, you know, and I’m not a snitcher. I’ve no way of proving my in- nocence excepting by convicting another poor devil. I’ve suffered too much myself to want to put any one else in bad. Don’t forget, though, that you have no proof against me. As for the salary due me, I relinquish it. Buy yourself a new box of cigars out of it, and with the balance buy my dear little friend Chester a pair of pink spats. ‘“Meanwhile I'll add your interesting and heinous charge as a footnote to my lit- tle letter of discredit, together with the con- clusive proof you offer to support your in- dictment, and Ill be on my way.” Without waiting for further comment, Bradwell took his hat and departed. CHAPTER VI. WORDEN MAKES GOOD. AHALF-HOUR after his summary de- parture from J. B. Matthews—under a cloud of tobacco -smoke, as it were— Bradwell had presented himself before his THE ARGOSY. friend Worden, in the office of Guthrie, Sandford and Pierson. “Mr. Matthews, I believe!” exclaimed Worden cheerily. “Oh, no! I’m mistaken. It’s only his junior partner. You two are so much alike! Or have you come over to tell me the old man has retired and you’re the new head of the firm?” . “Not just like that,” Bradwell grinned. ‘“‘T dropped in to tell you that I came near resigning about a half an hour ago.” ‘Well, why in thunder didn’t you?” the other demanded indignantly. “Old Matthews beat me to it by about a second.”’ ‘You mean the old cuss fired you?” ‘‘ Just like that.” ‘Well, I'll be hanged! Served you right for not going while the going was good, as I tipped you off to do. I’m glad of it, though, as long as you wouldn’t go any other way. Now we'll have you in a decent firm. Tell father all about it. Have a cheap cigar while you talk—to take the taste of Matthews’s thirty-five centers out of your mouth.” Bradwell rehearsed the recent scene in Matthews’s office with embellishments that made his friend whoop with glee. ‘“‘ Come on in and tell it to Mr. Guthrie,” Worden chuckled, when Bradwell had fin- ished. ‘‘ He hates old Matthews, and your yarn ’Il tickle him right.” He led the way into the office of the se- nior member of the firm. Guthrie was one of those lean men of the indolently comfortable type physically. There was, however, in the depths of his humorous gray eyes at moments a flicker of crafty alertness. His appreciation of Bradwell’s experience was all that Worden predicted, though his expression of it was less boisterous than that of his managing clerk. ‘TI like your sense of humor, Mr. Brad- well,” he commented. ‘ Trouble with old Matthews is, he hasn’t any. I knew you wouldn’t last there. Worden has told me all about you, and nearly persuaded me to give you a try-out after you got through there. I’d like to see that famous letter of yours, by the way.” Bradwell handed it over, and Guthrie GOMIIG OOO SS (CO