Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 2 — page 108: what you’re looking at

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

258 way. Got ary old commutator in yo’ tool box?” said Munro. “Yes. Bust yo’n?” “No. Lost it.” ‘Lost it. What the—” then, remember- ing that one of his passengers was a lady, the driver fished out the old commutator, and held a light, while Munro put it in place. | As he stood looking at the rusty old scrap heap, the driver said: ‘“ That old boat shore looks like the cats had been draggin’ her around.” “Yes, she’s been run some, and is right smart tore up, but if I kin get her into the garage I kin fix her so’s she'll go,” replied Munro, and then as he reached for the crank, “ Just foller me. I go by Hale’s.” There was a cough and a roar. Lizzie rattled like she was laughing with hysteria. Munro climbed to the seat, and the aston- ished driver saw the old junk heap leap forward into the darkness and disappear. He followed with all the juice he had, but he never saw seven-league Lizzie again. She was on her last trip. He reached Hale’s, and the swearing postmaster told him it was the mail car, the mail had been changed and the car gone half an hour, and that the mail carrier had gone nuts. IIl. MEANTIME, just at midnight, a big car had driven down the silent streets of the sleeping city of Twin Hills. Its motor murmured in the lowest tones possible for a moving car. It stopped in front of the bank, and five men got out. Two of them approached the door, and soon had it open. One man remained in the car, and had his foot on the starter. : Just as the first of the robbers stepped through the door of the bank, jets of flame stabbed the darkness on the other side of the street, and a hail of bullets swept the bandits from their féet. At 4 A. M. Sheriff Bill Trueheart and his deputy, with Banker Volney, the post- master, and other astonished citizens stood in a little knot in front of the bank, talking. They had laid the six robbers in a row on the sidewalk, all dead, and were waiting the coming of daylight. THE ARGOSY. “Who sent that message?” .asked the sheriff. ‘‘ Search me,” replied the banker. “‘ Who- ever it was, he did us one good turn. The operator called me up about an hour ago, and told me somebody was trying to warn me about the bank robbery, and the wire went out. I— Hello! What’s that com- ing down the street?” Two dim lights came weaving along the way, bobbing up and down like a cork in a riffle, turned in to the post-office and stopped. “Tt’s that fool Jew, with the mail. Didn’t get in last night. Reck’n that danged old rattle-trap finally went to pot,” said the postmaster. Munro threw out the mail bags, and went on to the garafe, which was near the bank.. When he had spotted Lizzie, that is, what was left of her, he sought the banker in the little knot of men. “Mr. Volney, kin I see you in the ga- rage a minute?”’ he said. ' The banker went with him, and as they stood by the side of the old wreck, Munro said: “You are on my bond, and I ought to tell you. I busted into a house last night.” ‘“‘ Broke into a house! Whose house?” ‘“* I—I don’t know, sir. I—I didn’t mean no harm. This is all I took, and it ain’t hurt none,” and he pulled a telephone re- ceiver from the pocket of his old mackin- 3 tosh. “What the—” began Volney. “Them fellers helt me up yesterday, and took my commutator. I knowed they was fixin’ to rob the bank, and I couldn’t do nothin’. I follered a wire till I come to a house. They wa’n’t nobody at home, an’ I busted in to the telephone. It wouldn’t work, and I took this.” “What on earth did you want with that?” : “Why, I seen a fellow talk with one once, by sticking one of the pins into a tie ware in the insulator, and holding the other pin against a ground ware. So I found a ground ware, clumb the pole, and tried it, and—”’ “Hey! Come here, fellers!” yelled Vol- ney. ‘“‘ Here’s the duck says he sent that Go DOO mie CS (E@)