Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 5, 1921 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

PAWNED. and one of the crisp, new, fifty-dollar bank- notes passed into the latter’s possession. “ Keep that car in sight, and don’t make it hopelessly obvious that you are following it. Ill attend to your fare.” He screwed around in his seat. An el- derly, gray-whiskered gentleman, a patent- ly irate gentleman, was pounding furiously on the glass panel. ‘We should be turnin’ down this street we're just passin’,” grinned the chauffeur. John Bruce lowered the panel. ‘“What’s the meaning of this?” thun- dered the fare. “T’m very sorry, sir,” said John Bruce respectfully. ‘A little detective business.” He coughed. It was really quite true. His voice became confidential. ‘‘ The occu- pants of that car ahead got away from me. I—I want to arrest one of them. I’m very sorry to put you to any inconvenience, but it couldn’t be helped. There was no other way than to commandeer your taxi. It will be only for a matter of a few minutes.” “It’s preposterous!’’ spluttered the fare. “Qutrageous! I—IDl—” “Yes, sir,” said John Bruce. “ But there was nothing else I could do. You can report it to headquarters, of course.” He closed the panel. “ Fly-cop — not!” said the chauffeur, with his tongue in his cheek. “ Any fly-cop that ever got his mit on a whole fifty-dollar bill all at one time couldn’t be pried loose from it with a crowbar!” “Tt lets you out, doesn’t it?” inquired John Bruce pleasantly. ‘“ Now let’s see you earn it.” “Tl earn it!” said the chauffeur with unction. ‘ You leave it to me, boss!”’ The quarry, in the shape of the travel- ing pawn shop, directed its way into the heart of the East Side. Presently it turned into a hiving, narrow street, where hawkers with their push-carts in the light of flaring, spitting gasoline banjoes wére doing a thriving business. The two cars went more slowly now. There was very little room. The taxi almost upset a fish vendotr’s wheeled emporium. The vendor was elo- quent—fervently so. But the chauffeur’s eyes, after an impersonal, and indifferent glance at the other, returned to the car 309 ahead. The taxi continued on its way, trailing fifty yards in the rear of the trav- eling pawn shop. At the end of the block the car ahead turned the corner. As the taxi, in turn, rounded the corner, John Bruce saw that the traveling pawn shop was drawn up be- fore a small building that was nested in between two tenements. The blood quick- ened in his pulse. The girl had alighted, and was entering the small building. “Hit it up a little to the next corner, turn it, and let me off there,” directed John Bruce. “IT get you!” said the chauffeur. The taxi swept past the car at the curb. Another minute and it had swung the next corner, and was slowing down. John Bruce jumped to the ground before the taxi stopped. “ Good-night!”’ he called to the chauf- feur. He waved his hand debonairly at the scowling, whiskered visage that was watch- ing him from the interior of the cabvand hurriedly retraced his way back around the corner. The traveling pawn shop had turned and was driving away. John Bruce had moder- ated his pace, and sauntered on along the street. He smiled half grimly, half con- tentedly to himself. The “trip to Persia ” had led him a little farther afield than M. Henri de Lavergne had perhaps counted on -—or than he, John Bruce, himself had, either! But he knew now where the most glorious woman he had ever seen in his life lived, or, at least, was to be found again. No, it wasn’t the moon! To him, she was exactly that. And he had not seen her for the last time, either! That was what he was here for, though he wasn’t so mad as to risk, or, rather, invite an affront to be- gin with by so bald an act as to go to the front door, say, and ring the bell—which would be tantamount to informing her that he had—er—played the detective from the moment he had left her in the car. To- morrow, perhgps, or the next day, or when- ever fate saw fit to be in a kindly mood, a meeting that possessed all the hall-marks of being quite inadvertent offered him high hopes. Later, if fate sao rmmrelterd Seco