The Argosy for May — page 197: what you’re looking at

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

3884 THE son,” Mr. Clinton announced as_ the party halted at her side. “ This man who told us he was the house-detective here is the thief himself. “T suspected that all wasn’t well,” he continued. “The way the man kept cautioning us to be quiet struck me as a little odd. It seemed that he was more anxious than we were to avoid notoriety. ‘“So I went at once to the manager of the store, asked him for a description of the detective, and was immediately intro- duced to this gentleman ’’—he bowed to one of the two men between whom the thief stood—“‘as none other than the genuine special officer. ‘““] explained the situation to the man- ager,” he nodded to the second of the two men holding the shoplifter—‘ and we three started to the scene at once. “On the way we met this crook just getting ready to leave the store, collared him, and he has confessed.” He turned to the black-mustached man. “Tell your story ‘to the ladies as you told it to us,” he ordered. ““Why, there ain’t nothin’ to tell, I guess, they don’t already know,” the man answered with a wry smile. ‘‘ Somebody knocked ‘the bag out of my hand and I saw this young feller pick it up and give it to the old lady. ‘Then I followed her, tryin’ to get it back, some way. ARGOSY. ‘““T seen her open it up here at this counter, so I went up and pretended to be a detective that was goin’ to arrest her—threw a scare into her so’s she’d give up the bag. “Then I seen the wad of bills she fad, and I thought I could carry the game further and get some cash out of her on the bluff. If I hadn’t done that,” he ended ruefully, “Id have got away. Hanging around to get that money was” what gave these men a chance to get me before I got off.” Miss Hutchison looked from the thief to the young man standing at her niece’s side. H® came forward and returned to her the money she had given the psuedo- detective. “Thank you,” she said. “ He wasn’t such a bad sort of a fel- low, after all,” she thought, as she care- fully surveyed him. ‘He was quite clever, too, to foil that man’s game. Perhaps—” | Marion, watching the softened expres- sion upon her aunt’s face, advanced to Tom Clinton and linked her arm in his. — “Don’t you think, auntie—” she be- gan shyly. Miss Hutchison instantly burned her bridges. : ““T think,” she said firmly, ‘ that we’d better go to lunch—all three of us! ” A SUMMER SONG. THouGH the days of summer are lighter In the breath of perfume and flowers, And the skies are cloudless and brighter Than ever were ours; Though ‘the flush of the streams onflowing May murmur a wood-noted song, And the wild-hearted daisy is growing The woodside along ; Yet the sullen, sad silence of winter May keep with the trend of the heart, And meetings come only to glint a Rare moment, and part. For rather the somber clouds starting Than ever the skies’ lightest hue, If lightness comes but with the parting From you. Archibald Douglas. COMA 1 OOOL< ZEO