Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 178: what you’re looking at

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

344 to warrant the risk of bein’ beaned by it, and I decide to flee. I went over a dozen fences, and, although J never stopped runnin’ until I reached the office, Ed was there ahead of me. “Play dead!” I caution him, and that’s what we’re both doin’ when the boss comes in about fifteen minutes later, followed by a shriveled old bird with white whiskers. “Huh! There you are, eh?’ begins the boss, blood in his eye. ‘A fine pair of—” “ Didn’t we do that slick?” I ask him, grinnin’ like I’d just found a million some- wheres. “Why, you cheatin’ little rat—”’ screeches the boss, movin’ toward me like he was goin’ to take me by the throat. ‘““T guess Ed and me is the boys that can manage things!” I tell him, never lettin’ the grin slip—although I was scared to death! “We're the fancy little fixers! I told you Handbook Charlie couldn’t run no game in this town after I got on his trail! Gee, it was pretty! Wasn’t it, Ed? You should have—”’ ‘“ What the devil are you talkin’ about?” the boss inquires, lookin’ at me puzzled. My grin’s real now; at least I'd took his mind off beatin’ me up! “Why, didn’t you hear?” I ask. “ Didn’t you hear about the’raid that me and Ed staged down at Handbook Charlie’s?”’ “ Raid that you staged!” shouts the boss. “Sure!” I tells him. I looks at the old guy. Id sized him up right as bein’ one of the Anti-Vicers. ‘ I’ll bet you did, mister —er—I didn’t quite catch your name,” I tell him. ‘“ Simkins,” he says. ‘Mr. Simkins,”’ I says, bowin’. “ Do you mean to tell me—’”’ begins the boss. THE ARGOSY. “Sure!” I break in. ‘ It was the only thing we could do. We got a tip that Hand- | book Charlie was goin’ to move, so we had to call up the police. They come right around,” I says. = Aw’ you can’t—”’ The boss is pretty thick himself some- times! “ Sh-h-h!” I caution him, slippin’ him a wink. ‘ Yes,’ I says, ‘‘ me and Ed was the boys that done it, and I guess you can collect your five hundred from Mr. Simpie now. Yourre satisfied, ain’t you, Mr. Sim- cox?” ‘““ Simkins,” he says. ‘Well, you’re satisfied the way things turned out, ain’t you?” I ask him. He starts to grin all over his face. “Clever!”? he says, noddin’ to me. ‘You’re a young man of great resourceful- ness!” “How much you’ll never know!” I assure him. ‘““ Giles,” says the old bird to the boss, ‘you are to be congratulated on havin’ such a perspicacious and brilliant young man in your employ! He handled our case with re- markable tact; I might say he has strategic genius of no mean order. ~ Here is your five hundred dollars, Giles,” he says, pullin’ a bundle of centuries out of his wallet and handin’ it to the boss. “I should suggest that you reward these young men gen- erously from the proceeds of this so success- ful—er—coup. Here, young man,” he says, handin’ me a ten-spot, “ divide this with your colleague.”’ “Oh, no, thank you, sir!” I says, pushin’ the ten back. ‘““T’m sure Mr. Giles will— er—treward us generously!”’ And, even if he didn’t, it wasn’t such a bad job—takin’ it all the way through! Let’s all be sure to go down “The Red Road’’ With George C. Shedd September 27 “comic 200 S (E@)