Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

828 through their confidence in the men higher up. Surely the nation had found its stride. About this time Tom Dillon, red-faced, rotund, and rough, strolled into the power- house and had a talk with Clark. After- ward he walked over and stopped in front of Grim. For a few seconds he regarded the thin, wiry, solemn-faced Dickson with a whimsical smile. ‘“ Hello, Dungeon!” he greeted bluntly. * What do you know about levers?” “Levers?” Grim flashed him a contemp- tuous glance. “ Nothin’, Un me name ain’t no jail, neither!” “Don’t boil up.” Dillon chuckled. “I’m chief on No. 66, Continental Tube Line. I’m short a second. Looking for some downy-faced kid to bring up. Been here long?” “Six months,” Grim lied, glowering. Dillon blew a low whistle. ‘‘ Too green to blossom,” he taunted. “ Now, what did Clark mean when he said a year? What was your business before they made you over?” : ‘ Mindin’ my own.” “Failed. Got away from you, didn’t -it? So you don’t know levers?” “Naw! Reckon it’s a pole to pry wit out of fat folks, ain’t it?” Dillon laughed. “Say,” he hesitated, evidently estimating Grim’s possibilities, “vou’d have to sign for three years, but it’s a job you’d like. You’re blamed lucky to get the chance.”’ ‘““Me time’s up next week,” Grim re- minded. ‘I can get out if I want to.”’ “°Course. But you won’t,” Dillon said. “Do you want to go back -to this?” He passed Grim a card as he spoke. Grim took the card and stood staring, his eyes flashing from Dillon to the bit of paste- board in his hand. It was himself he saw just as he was when the drag-net gathered him in. Ragged, unkempt, debauched, half sober, hungry, hopeless. ‘““ Ah!” he gritted. “ Ye’re tryin’ to h’ist me. That’s not meself!”’ “It was,” Dillon asserted. With an oath Grim raised his hand to dash the picture, to the ground. “ Wait!’’ Dillon’s command arrested the hand an instant. ‘“‘ The other side.” THE ARGOSY. a Grim turned the card and the picture showed a young man neatly dressed, bar- bered, manlike, respectable, clean; himself. He stared hard at the picture, a dozen times it turned in his hand, a dozen glances showed the contrast, a dozen times the old life came, appealed, and was outbidden by the picture on the other side. ‘What ’d I have to do?” he asked. “Hold your nerve—main thing. You’ve resistance enough to make a fairly good lever man.” Grim hesitated, pondering. The three years didn’t really count for much. This place: had becor?e the only home he had ever known. Then Dillon had said the job was a good one and he was lucky. Somehow he felt like trusting this big, good- natured Dillon who laughed at him. “The pay starts at two hundred a month,” Dillon was saying. ‘“ Clark will have you enrolled in the morning.” “No. 66, Tube Line?” “Yes. In the morning,” and Dillon swung away, leaving Grim pondering to himself. ‘What was No. 66, anyway? Conti- nental Tube Line?” It was all very hazy. Just one fact stood out clear and enticing, and Grim was human. “ Two hundred a month!” he gasped. “ Reckon it’s my chance.” The next morning when he reported, a waiting official took him to an office where his papers were signed, and he was referred to Dillon for orders. They crossed the yards, dodging the swinging cranes, and went down to the water-front and stopped before a passage- way where armed men_ stood guard. Through this they hurried and across a tres- tle that spanned great stores of merchan- dise and onto a moving stairway that low- ered them to the docks below. They skirted the mass of concrete that held back the waters of the basin and descended a broad incline that led them to the subway floor. On the subway level Grim stood blink- ing, mind befogged, gaping with astonish- ment. They were entering an excavation acres in extent in which men moved -about like ° flies. Above them monster cylindrical cars ECON AMIE <a as Pains