Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 17, 1924 — page 142: what you’re looking at

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

292 And this time Marvin must have bagged his quarry, or he wouldn’t be talking as he was—he wouldn’t be grinning. He gulped and stammered a comprehending question: * You—got them?” Marvin nodded. m’ son.” “ Murgson and Irak and Welter, and their backer?” “Tally,” said Marvin. ‘““ And—” Eddie asked another question. Everything was all right now—most won- derfully, most amazingly, all right. Murg- son and Irak and Welter and their backer were in the hands of the authorities, and Marvin was here. Murgson and Irak and Welter and their backer. It was a clean bag —or almost. “ Blumefeldt?” Marvin gave him a glance. “ Blumefeldt got away again,” he said. ‘“‘ Maybe you heard a shot?” Eddie nodded. Blumefeldt had escaped for the second tire then. The man bore a charmed existence. And all at once Mildred Elton began to laugh. She didn’t laugh loudly. There was nothing unnatural about it. And yet one felt that her merriment came from an over- taxing of nerves—that it was a reaction. And then she spoke in most surprising fash- ion: “Oh, Mr. Marvin! I’m—glad.” Marvin gave her a searching glance, Ed- die didn’t wonder. Portia’s pleasure in the escape of the man who had tried to conduct so nefarious a transaction as that Blume- feldt had intended was scarcely moral. And as though the Federal agent had asked a question with his lips rather than with his eyes, she answered: ‘‘ He—he had us sent up here. He was interested in our wel- fare.”’ Well, that was the woman of it, Eddie found himself thinking. And of course— of course Blumefeldt had tried to smooth things for them in the only way he could if one wanted to be fair about it. “Come along,” Marvin prompted. “TI reckon you won’t object to getting out of here.” “Well, no.” All at‘once Eddie chuckled. Once more everything had turned around. They were going out—he and Portia. They “You bet we got ‘em, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. were going out with Marvin. They were actually under way, Because Marvin was moving toward the door. Eddie took Portia by the arm and they followed, back along the dirty hall, and down the stairs, and along the lower hallway past the room where Murgson and Irak and Welter had held them, and down another stairs and to a waiting cab. ‘“* Where are we going now?” Eddie asked as he helped Portia to enter ahead of Marvin. “Down to the station, of course,” the Federal agent replied. “ Th’ station?” Eddie paused with a foot on the step. They were going back to the station. And—and—Marvin was pleas- ant enough about it, as he would be, having filled his net with a pretty large, a pretty important catch. Only—Marvin hadn’t said a word about his status in the further course of this matter. ‘“‘ Oh, but Mar- vin—” he faltered in protest. “Go on. Get in,” the I. D. man inter- rupted. “ You’re delaying us.” Eddie entered the cab. He sat down at Portia’s side. He found her hand and took it into his own and pressed her fingers and felt the pressure returned. Marvin followed. The cab got under way. The Federal agent lighted a cigar. Eddie cleared his throat. They were going to the station. “See here, Marvin,” he broke out, “ if Blumefeldt hadn’t got away again, he’d tell you he didn’t know me—and had never had any dealings with me. He told those three you’ve got now as much this eve- ning. That’s why we were upstairs. They wouldn’t consent to bring their backer down to meet him while we were present.” Marvin nodded. ‘Don’t worry, Mr. Harmon,” he accepted Eddie’s statement. “Your room at the Fairview was searched this evening—almost as soon as we knew you had one.” “ Searched?” Eddie repeated somewhat stiffly. For an instant his resentment flared. They had entered his room and searched it. Not that it made any dif- ference, but it smacked of an actual in- fringement of personal rights. It was a pretty high-handed proceeding. CORMICLOO (©