Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 13, 1923 — page 70: what you’re looking at

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

ee Hd2 looked small for all the work that had gone into it. The check that came from Denver looked bigger, but it belonged to other people, and had melted to its decimal point in a day. Dick Lambert wrote in the Pioneer: Tt is rumored that the Dorado Litharge Cor- poration has made overtures to Daniel Frazer for the purchase in part or whole of his min- ing claim in South Canon, about which so much has been said this summer. We are authorized by S. L. Brown, the lessee of the property, to say that Mr. Frazer contemplates no change in the ownership of the mine at this time. A shaft sunk in the lode has reached the depth of thirty feet, at which point the chal- cocite continues to be as rich in the platini- ferous mineral, sperrylite, as at the surface. We understand that the first month’s clean- up went above thirteen thousand dollars. On the day when Steve Brown, armed with one of Zeke Pelham’s historic guns, went to Denver with his first platinum bar, Daniel Frazer came down from the mine, driving his own: team and light wagon. Having stabled his animals in Pelham’s barn he made for Dr. Hamilton’s home. Town Marshal Hummel was swinging his official club in front of the Palace Hotel. “Why, hello, there, perfesser!” he ex- claimed in the facetious tone of one who greets the village fool. Frazer fixed him with a look, left him abashed and passed on. In due time he swung in at Dr. Hamil- ton’s gate, mounted ‘the steps and halted at the screen door. Sounds from within betokened a. dinner party. Silver tinkled on glass. Mrs. Ham- ilton’s society voice was heard to urge some one to have a second cup of coffee, and - some one responded gallantly that since he left home he had not, until this evening, tasted real coffee; and if Mrs. Hamilton would be so good— Another voice spoke. “ Chief, aren’t you forgetting the coffee they gave us at the Palace Hotel? You praised that to the waitress, if I remember.” ‘““T suppose he praises every woman’s coffee,’ Mrs. Hamilton laughed. “TI sus- pect that Mr. Lutwell is a great flatterer.” Daniel Frazer rang the bell. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. To the summerhouse on the lawn the men folk retired after the late-arriving guest had been regaled. The cigars lighted, Dr. Hamilton remembered that he had some telephoning to do, and left the three to hold their peace conference without him. The moment was an awkward one for Arthur Laird, and more so for Mr. Lutwell, who, now that he had his enemy in his power, looked cross-eyed at his cigar, fidget- ted in his chair, cleared his throat noisily and otherwise betrayed an uneasiness odd in one so astute and worldly wise. He had not reckoned on the gleam of quiet humor that shone from under Daniel Frazer’s gray eyebrows. “Hamilton advised me you would be here to-day,” Frazer began. “I am more deeply touched than I can tell you.” “* Let’s don’t discuss it,” said Lutwell. “But we must,” Frazer insisted gently. “You are good to come back this way.” “Good? The dickens!” Lutwell puffed. ‘““Ts a man good when he comes after some- thing he’s greedy for?” He blustered in a grizzly manner. ““T tell you, Frazer, I’ve set my heart on owning a partnership in that mine of yours. I’ve talked nothing else all the way to Nevada and back. Ain’t that so, Arthur?” Laird nodded gravely, closing one eye to his mentor of other days. “Before we discuss the mine,” said Frazer, ‘‘ I must speak of the great service you did me when you were here in Juné. Hamilton has told me everything.” ‘Pooh! Pooh!” said Lutwell. “And of the injustice I did you when you were my guests. I am not ashamed, for I acted according to natural instinct.” “We all do that,” Lutwell broke in. “T’m doing it now when I covet your mine.” ‘“* Nevertheless, I offer you my regrets for what I said, as well as my thanks for what you did. I called you hard names, Mr. Lut- well. A pirate, for instance.” “ Did vou? Id forgotten.” ““ And a wolf.” “Shucks!”” Lutwell growled. “ You ought to hear what they call me in Wall Street.” EOPMICLOOOKS (E@)