Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 5, 1921 — page 145: what you’re looking at

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

HIS LAST CRIME. He regarded her whimsically. ‘‘ I went to college, too, once upon a time—an’ my memory has always been fairly good. You won’t have to teach an’ train me, Honey. I know how incorrect grammar—”’ 431 “As if I could ever train you in any- thing,” she said indignantly. ‘‘ Of course you may kiss my hand if you like,” added matter-of-factly, ‘‘ but while my lips are here, why—”’ (The end.) by \ X JHEN Paddy ithe Fox slunk into the Bur Oak Inn late that night, his face was dark and drawn from sleepless worry. Without even as much as a glance in reply to the bartender’s greet- ing, he shuffled into the deserted back room. Seating himself at the table near the door, Paddy the Fox carefully scrutinized the solitary customer at the bar. Such was the nature of his business that he could not afford to run any risks with strangers at the Bur Oak. As he looked, he realized that he knew the fellow. Lurching out into the main room, he peered eagerly into the stranger’s face. Then he placed a dirty hand on the man’s arm. “Say,” began Paddy hoarsely, ‘‘ hain’t youse Willie Gardner?” When the man addressel had shot a quick glance at the rough being at his side, a look of recognition flashed into his eyes also. “Yes,” he admitted. Then, sharply: “Why, you must be Paddy the Tox.” “Fhe same,” acknowledged the I ox, bowing crudely as the extended his hairy hand. Ben Smith As their hands touched, Paddy gazed in- tently into the face of Willie Gardner. ‘“Youse hain’t forgot them days when we was kids together, ‘ Back o’ the Yards,’ has youse?”’ , “Those days are unforgettable, Paddy.” “Them was the times before your daddy became city judge an’ hit it rich. Well, life’s been hard on Paddy an’ good to Willie, eh?” ‘‘My father’s death left me in bad Straights, you know,” parried Gardner. ‘Life isn’t the bed of roses I was thinking it was going to be once. He died finaneial- ly ruined. Worse: he left a big debt for me But I expect to do it for his in a big chair. Again Paddy’s watery eyes scanned the young man’s face. Then he lifted a commanding finger. “‘ Say,” he whispered, ‘I kin use youse. Let’s talk!” He led the way to the deserted back room. The ‘two men sat facing each other across a little round table—the well-dressed chap and the criminal. “'Youse need money,” stated: Padding ao) she