Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

= WAEBRBAELEt CLARY am Th ww Bloch ot Pleuey By LAURIE YORK ERSKINE Author of ‘‘in the Event of Death,’’ ‘‘ The Laughing Rider,’’ etc. A NOVELETTE—COMPLETE IN THIS ISSUE returned to these parts for the purpose of making good the threat he made last March, when, after lifting a small sum of money from Bruce Halliday, the well- known paymaster of the Consolidated Mines, he swore to return and get the company’s pay roll, because the criminal who held up the Grover car last night was disguised with the same colored blue bandanna handkerchief that Jast March gained for the bandit the nickname of Black Conway. [: is feared that the bandit, Conway, has summed up the foregoing dark suspicion in one long, breathless sen- tence, it is quite probable that the reporter of the Prairie Grass Daily Echo left his desk with the feeling that the finest traditions of journalism had been thereby notably upheld. He would never know the supercilious smile which that article was destined to bring to the Having weary exchange editors of great dailies, and he would never know what the columnists who live on that sort of thing would do with it; but he no doubt had at least an inkling of the emotion it would stir in the breast of Bud Halliday, the well-known paymaster, for all Prairie Grass knew what Bud’s job meant to him. Bud made no secret of it. He gloried in it. What Bud’s job meant to him was precisely what Marion Grover meant to him; and to Bud Halliday Marion Grover meant the breath of life. To Bud Halliday Marion was life itself. And now, into the world which he had regarded with such high confidence since the moment he had discovered that Marion was more than one of those females, came this enlightening achievement of local journalism. Bud sat in the office and wrinkled his 505 COMmiclooe CO