Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 23, 1924 — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

252 seemed to be regarding it with amused tolerance. Recognizing the fact that I was not welcomed by my old pals with the riotous enthusiasm I had expected, I ex- cused my intrusion by saying that I simply had to see them all at once about a matter of vital importance. Hollister intimated that they were all discussing something private and confiden- tial, and suggested that it might be a good idea for me to take a stroll around the neighborhood and come back a little later. I was about to take this gentle hint, but Dick Harlowe insisted on my remaining, re- minding all parties concerned that I had been in the Seumas Shayne secret from the start. He flattered me by adding that I might be able to find a solution of the problem which was giving them all brain- fag. After I had assured them all that I remained solely because I had an important communication to make, I took the only vacant chair and Dick started to address the meeting, evidently beginning the dis- cussion where I had interrupted it. ‘Well, that’s the situation,’ he said. “We're up against it, and the question is what are we going to do about it. Several thousand people will see that picture, in- cluding a lot of newspaper men. The por- trait will be reproduced in half the illus- trated supplements from Maine to Cali- fornia.” “That won’t do any harm,” put in McKesson, as if he were the defendant in the case. “ In fact, it will help. If anyone has been in doubt, he will now be con- vinced that Seumas Shayne is a real per- son.” “Oh, yes,” said Chaworth with cheery sarcasm; ‘“ and the next time a newspaper man sees Tom Jervis on the street, he will corner him and demand an interview. Then what will happen?” Several pairs of hands went up in des- pair, and I noticed that those who had formerly favored the dissolution of the Seumas corporation now groaned the loud- est as if they saw the goose that laid the golden eggs led forth for execution. “Tt’s all up, boys,” said Bert Hollister. “As Dick says, that picture will be known all over the country, and Jervis is a fellow ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. of such unusual appearance that he will easily be identified. Seumas is through for good and all. Mac has dumped the apple cart and our orgy of coin collecting is a thing of the past.” Everybody began to swear at McKesson, who after being informed in a great variety of language just what he was, protested feebly that he had told them a dozen times that the portrait was a joke. He tried hard to get his co-Seumases to see it in that light; but he might as well have attempted to show them that there is a sunny side to a toothache. They were all convinced that there would be an investigation and that they had better take their profits and get out before the coming of the crash. McKesson made a last futile effort to persuade them that they were worrying about something that would never happen, but the suggestion was de- rided, and the poor chap looked so broken- hearted that I made a diversion in his favor. “IT happen to know,” I said, “ that an interviewer is already camping on the trail of Seumas, and what is worse, she is the cleverest newspaper woman in town. I found it out an hour ago, and that is why I am here—to tip you fellows off. She has figured it out that Shayne is a syndicate. In other words, she has made a pretty accurate guess how many beans are in the j ar.” After the gnashing of teeth had subsided and McKesson had been described and classified in picturesque phrases, I went on with my chapter of revelations. “You must know that for quite a while there have been rumors that Seumas Shayne is a nom de plume, adopted by several writers; and now, with Nell Teller on the job, it is up to you to prove that the theory is wrong. Couldn’t one of you be Seumas as far as newspaper interviews are con- cerned? He could have recently arrived from Europe, and after being in evidence just long enough to squelch truthful but damaging reports, he could return to the safe and congenial atmosphere of the Old World.” ‘“ That’s about as foolish a suggestion as I ever heard,” said Bert Hollister. ‘“‘ We Gomichooks (E@)