Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 174: what you’re looking at

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

TRAIN AND STATION. miliating position, and he recovered his speech with difficulty. ‘“‘Who dares to give such _ evi- dence?” he demanded hoarsely. “ Is it you, Kinney? ” turning fiercely upon the other. “ And Mr. Forsdyke,” replied Kin- ney, in a troubled voice, and nodding affirmatively. “Ts it because you saw me trying to open the safe last evening?” continued Dash, trying to calm himself. “You must admit it was a very sus- picious position I found you in; yes, sir,” replied the assistant reluctantly. “Well, didn’t I tell you Forsdyke had given me the key and combination, and asked me to see if I couldn't open it?” blazed forth Dash. “TI repeat it now, in the presence of Forsdyke, and he won’t dare to deny it.” Forsdyke was as pale as a corpse, but he screwed up his courage, and steadied his trembling voice enough to say: “T never did anything of the kind. It doesn’t look reasonable——” Dykeman was dumfounded, and he never let the express agent complete the sentence he had started on. He sprang forward, balanced on his toes, and launched a terrible blow with his right fist straight at Forsdyke’s head. The latter received the blow square on his forehead, and went crashing in a heap to the floor. Dykeman now realized that he was the victim of a skilfully laid plot to ruin him, and that Forsdyke was at the bot- tom of it. He would have followed up his onslaught, had not the superintend- ent interfered. Forsdyke was not seriously injured, or even rendered insensible, and he rose painfully to his feet, with his hand- kerchief pressed to his forehead. “ There’s a better way to settle this matter than with your fists, Dykeman, which do not explain things at all,” - said the official, not unkindly ; and then he thought to himself: “There’s something decidedly 165 wrong here; there’s a darky in this woodpile we haven’t found yet. No guilty person ever acted as Dykeman does.”’ : “ All right, Mr. Layard,” responded Dash, desisting from further hostili- ties. ‘* I will do just as you say.” ; “ Then give me all of your keys, both to the office and anything that is locked in your room.” Dykeman did so, and after Mr. Lay- ard lad examined everything in the agent’s office, the trio followed him to the young railroader’s room over the station. There was nothing there that was locked but Dykeman’s trunk, which was quickly opened and examined by Mr. Layard. Kinney rummaged about the apartment, while Forsdyke investi- gated a small closet at one end. Finally, when the latter reached up and swept his hand along a shelf 1n the closet that had apparently nothing on it, a soft package was dislodged, and fell to the floor. Apparently without noticing it, Forsdyke raised himself, by grasping the edge of the shelf, and glanced all over the support, as 1f he expected to find something more, and an odd expression of perplexity and amazement came over his face when it failed to appear. He then dropped to his feet, and picking up the package, handed it to Mr. Layard. Dykeman was thunderstruck, and giving Forsdyke one look, he sank on his bed, white and fairly gasping. Mr. Layard examined the package, and found it was money, and plainly marked $300 on the band encircling the bills. “How do you account for this, Dykeman?”’ he demanded. “I don’t know anything about it, sir: I never put it there.” The young man spoke with an earn- estness that carried conviction with it, and gazed into the superintendent’s face with clear and steady eyes. The latter could not believe he was a thief any more than that he himself was one. COMICLOOOKS eo