Argosy All-Story Weekly, March 15, 1924 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

THE CONFIDENCE MAN, For he knew that Welsh and Broderick were fighting with the black hatred which only good sportsmen know. “Let go!” he roared. But the devolces of chance seemed to have decided that Cor- van was the strategic center of this combat, and, reénforced, held on. Corvan exerted himself heroically, and he was in good con- dition. When he saw Broderick reaching for his hip pocket and Welsh close in to block | that fatal move, he made a herculean effort and tore himself free. | As he did so, he saw the door of the room swing open and Welsh’s butler enter with a colored waiter in attendance. These men, he knew, were professional bouncers, and Corvan saw imminent humiliation for all concerned. With a glimpse of Broder- ick striving to reach that hip pocket, and another of the advancing attendants, ‘he leaped for the wall and switched off the lights. In the darkness he heard the mad scram- ble for the door. And from out the sound of that scramble he heard the detonation of a pistol shot, deafening in the smallness of the room. Instantly a flash and a bang roared an answer to it. There was a sound of snvuffling and a deep drawn breath. Corvan felt a body groping for the light switch, and in an- other instant the room was filled with light again, From his position near the door Corvan saw the entire room as a spectator sees the stage of drama. Welsh stood at the switch, and crouching against the opposite wall were the frightened waiter and Noylan, the butler; with a gun in his hand. Aimost in the center of the room amid a pile of cards _ and chips lay the heavily breathing Broder- ick with a hand clutching at his middle. “Get out, Sam!” barked Welsh; and, ceiving the wounded man a wide berth, the colored waiter left the room as though g0- ing to execution. Welsh turned upon Cor- van the ferocious gaze of a wild beast at bay. | “That was a sweet play you made!” he snarled. “ That was a hell of a play!” He embellished his remarks with the unprint- able. “T always pass a bad hand,” said Cor- 647 van coldly. He advanced to the wounded man and, kneeling, felt his pulse. “ He’s breathing,” he said. But Welsh’s green eyes devoured him maliciously. “You quit_on me!” he growled. let me down.” Corvan arose t6 his feet and fixed the man with uncompromising gaze. “Take another line,’ he snapped. was your deal.” Welsh grinned with the mirth of a fren- zied hound. — “ All right.” His voice hardly contained his fury. ‘ UIl take another Jine.”” He ap- proached Corvan until his face was inches from the countenance of the confidence man. When he spoke he injected an ex- “ You traordinary effect of savage sarcasm into his voice. “ Thanks!” he said. “See?” “ What for?” asked Corvan coolly. The other’s snarling grin so close to Cor- van’s face had something absurdly fantas- tic in it, “ For shooting when you did. You saved my life.” Corvan, completely understanding Welsh’s meaning, regarded him with unimpassioned cycs. “That’s a Nie, Welsh,” he said. know damned well it’s a lie. [ had no gun,’ But Welsh did not vélass his savage grin. ‘All right,” he said. “ You know you didn’t shoot him, and I say you did, <Any- ‘way Six men saw you douse the lights, Corvan, and when they went up again Broderick was like this. How will that sound to a jury?” “ Rotten,” admitted Corvan, not: drop- ping his gaze. “ And you needn’t think it won’t come . to that. That’s Charlie Broderick layin’ there on the floor, and they'll tear the guts out of the earth to get the man who did it. You got me into this, Corvan!” The man’s voice vibrated with self pity, panic, and ‘“ And I may go to the chair for it.. fury. But if I do, we'll go together!” Corvan calinly summed up the situation. ‘“ Don’t lose your nerve, Welsh,” he ad- vised, sharply. “ Do what I say, and we'll come clean yet.” “Vou — COMmiclOokSs.CO