Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 174: what you’re looking at

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

a a ee 340 “ Huh? he snaps. “Oh, all right,” I says. “I ain’t tryin’ to lay bare any shameful secrets of your past,” I tell him, “ only, if you’ve ever been in a poolroom, you’ll remember that they’re liable to look with suspicion on a guy that ain’t got no money.” “ That’s right, too,” says the boss. “‘ Look here,” he bids, pullin’ out the top drawer of his desk. ‘“‘ The Anti-Vice and Gamblin’ Association has give me a hundred bucks for expenses. Here’s fifty,” he says, strip- pin’ off a bunch of tens and fives. “ Go down to Charlie’s and-get a couple of bets down. That ’ll be your evidence,” he says. ‘“ Suppose I lose the money,” I suggest. ‘Tf you lose more than a couple of bucks, you're crazy!” says the boss. “ I think I’m givin’ you a pretty fair shake — splittin’ fifty-fifty with you on the expense money. What I give you is yours!” he says~—just like I didn’t know it already. ‘“ Maybe this won’t be enough to get evi- dence with,” I says. ‘ Maybe it won’t,” says the boss, turnin’ his back. “Say!” Ed wants to know. I come in?” “See Joe,” says the boss. “ Now get out of here—both of you.” ‘‘ What do we do when we get evidence?”’ I ask. ‘ Tip off the police?” ‘“ Blazes—no!”’ cries the boss. ‘‘ You’re workin’ for the Anti-Vice and Gamblin’ As- sociation. They want to tell the police themselves.” “Tm on,” I tell him. When we’re outside Ed says to me: “ Pretty soft! All we got to do is lose ourselves for a couple of days—we can go to the movies or anything.” “How d’you make that out?” I ask him. “Well,” he says, “as long as we know that Handbook Charlie zs runnin’ all we got to do is stall around till we’re ready to hand him in.” “We don’t know he’s runnin’,’’ I object. ‘But you’ve been to his place yourself— to play horses.” ‘T’ve never been there in my life!” I tell him. ‘‘ Remember that now, if anybody asks you—I’ve never been there in my life!”’ That’s none of your business!”’ ‘“ Where do THE ARGOSY. e “ But when you know—” he starts to say. ‘A detective ain’t supposed to know nothin’,” I inform him. ‘“ His business is to find things out.” ¢¢ Bitiae.’* ‘But nothin’! Just keep your mouth shut. Here—stuff this in it,” I tell him, givin’ him one of the Anti-Vice and Gam- blin’ Association’s five-spots. It worked; Ed shut up. Well, we get into Charlie’s, and there’s a million people there. They’re makin’ bets like money was dirt. I hop over to a telephone and calls up the boss. ““T seen a lot of fellers goin’ into the rooms over McNally’s harness shop,” I tell him. ‘“ Maybe Charlie 7s open there. I can’t get in, though. I’m goin’ to stick around,” I add, ‘“‘ and see what I can pick up.” - I find a horse named Cherry Ripe, who’s runnin’ in the first race at Louisville is six to win, three a place, and eight to five to show, and it occurs to me that maybe here’s a chance of pickin’ up about a century and a half’s worth of evidence. “Cherry Ripe?” I says to one of the workers. “How much?” he asks me. ‘A quarter of a yard,” I tell him, strip- pin’ off two tens and a five. “Cherry Ripe; a hundred and _ fifty against twenty-five!” he calls out as he slips me the ticket. “What’re you goin’ to do with that five I give you?” I ask Ed. ‘“ Keep it for expenses,”’ he says. “Are you?” I ask him. “ Give it to me!” I order. He does, and I bet it for him on Cherry Ripe. Pretty soon the machine begins tickin’. “They’re off at Louisville!”” comes the announcement. (Tick, tick, tick.) ‘‘ At the quarter — Cherry Ripe by four lengths! (Tick, tick, tick.) At the half — Cherry Ripe by six!” ‘Looks like the evidence we’ll get here is the kind our legal friends call ‘ mate- rial’ ” I whisper to Ed. Tick, tick, tick goes the machine again. ‘In the stretch—Cherry Ripe by ten!” (EOLA MICE .€O