The Argosy — page 105: what you’re looking at

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

Lady Grace. 93 “I see you believe White, and not me.” ** There’s no possibility of disbelieving White. Whereas you—why, Baumgarten, it is your own handwriting! Shall you take up the bill ?” “No. It is none of mine.” ‘© What shall you do?” asked Mr. Jephson. “T shall sleep upon it; and perhaps have a quiet word with a gen- tleman-detective.” As he gained Pump Court, having wished Godfrey Jephson good- evening, and tured into it in a brown study, a whistle high up greeted him. Gazing upwards, Charles perceived the face and whiskers of a friend of his looking out from the window of some chambers not far from his own. “Hi, Baumgarten! Come up.” *Can’t. Have some work to do.” “Then take the consequences.” A shower of something liquid was in preparation of descent. Charles Baumgarten made a dash, and disappeared up the stairs. Peter Chester—a grandson of that old Mr. Chester who was once Rector of Great Whitton, though the reader may have forgotten him— received Charles with a basin of hot soup in his hand. You'd have caught it nicely, Charley, basin and all! Just look at the precious stuff she concocts for a fellow, dying, pretty near, of an inflamed throat! I told her beef-tea, and she goes and makes this.” Charles knew of the storms that Peter Chester, who, like himself, lived in his chambers for economy’s sake, and his old laundress had together. ‘‘Is your throat no better?” he asked. “Much you care whether it’s better or worse!” retorted Peter Chester, a slight young man, with a delicate face and blueeyes. “I'd never go from my word, Baumgarten. You promised to come in and sit with a fellow last night, but deuce a bit came you.” ‘I added ‘if I could,’ Peter.” “Well, if you could not—that’s to say, as you did not—you might have sent Joe in to tell me so. Just get ill yourself, and see how lively your evenings would be with your throat in flannel, expecting a fellow who never comes !” ‘“‘T was coming in at eight o’clock, when old Tomkins called in, and asked me to give him a glass of wine, while he talked over old times. Every quarter of an hour I thought he’d go; instead of which he stuck on till eleven o’clock and finished the bottle.” “You'll shine at the Bar, Charley, when you can invent a white lie after that rapid fashion, and stare a man in the face as you tell it.” ** Tomkins was in my chambers.” “Tomkins might be. But you were not.” “What do you mean, Peter?” Peter Chester was looking at him, and laughing in a most pro- voking manner. “I don’t see why you should make-a. mystery of comicbooks.com