The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 136: what you’re looking at

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

122 Almost as soon as he left the Me- teor’s office Brennant must have started pulling wires to save him. The re- porter had met his intending liberators coming up in the very elevator which was taking him down. Of course, those other occupants of the car being in the way, the moment had not been propi- tious for getting him out of the clutches of his captors at once. But, if this un- fortunate accident had not stood in the road, Lewis might have been freed within four minutes or less of his de- parture from the city rooms. It was little short of miraculous, the speed with which these men, strangers to him, but undoubtedly acquaintances of Brennant, had got “on the job” at the editor’s request. The reporter turned to ask a question concerning this. “ Now for a quick sneak!” muttered the fat man’s companion. With the latter, he had stood for the past two or three seconds, poised, watching the two police officers as they moved away. Those gentlemen had got scarcely a dozen feet off. But their backs were still turned. “ Quick is right!” the fat man mur- mured. Wheeling, he caught Lewis by one arm, his friend snatched the reporter’s opposite elbow, and all three imme- diately started at a brisk walk that was almost a trot for the opposite end of the narrow street. A moment, and they were back in the thick of the crowd on Nicollet Ave- nue. Squeezing through the press, the reporter saw that their goal was a closed cab drawn up at the curb. Of course—his rescue was by no means complete as yet, for soon the hue and cry would go up, and he must be re- moved far from the scene of his break from captivity at once, or nothing would be accomplished. Thrown, rather than helped, into the waiting vehicle, Lewis landed on a cushioned seat in the gloom of the cab’s interior. Then quickly he faced the door in anxiety lest his deliverers meant THE: ARGOSY. to pack him off alone, forgetful that he still had the handcuffs on his wrists and was thus practically helpless. But his fears proved groundless. Piling in beside him, the fat man and his friend, having stopped merely to snap a direction at the driver, closed the door. And they were off. Lewis expelled a deep breath, and grinned around at the two. ““Neat!”? he commented approv- ingly. “ Very neat—and, I must say, just in the nick of time! Well, I cer- tainly am indebted to you for this! Believe me, that’s from the heart!” Neither of the men said anything. “Brennan knew what he was do- ing,’ the reporter continued after a pause, ‘when he picked you two for this job. You handled it to the queen’s taste. Any time you’re looking for a recommendation as a pair of A num- ber I rescuers, you can come to me and Pll fix you up!” Reaching for his handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his face, Lewis was prevented from getting at his hip- pocket by the manacles. “Say, I wish you’d take these things off now,” he went on, and held up his hands. “I suppose Brennant told you they had these on me when they took me away. He wouldn’t forget that. You’ve brought along something to get them open with, of course. They make me blamed uncomfortable, and I’d like to be out of them as quick as I can—’”’ The fat man shrugged deeper into the seat he occupied alone, facing Lewis and the other. He pushed aside the drawn curtain a crack, glanced out of the window, then put back the shade. You’re all right the way you are,”’ he remarked. | Lewis straightened. “But what’s the reason you can’t take these things off—” The man beside him dug his elbow into his ribs. ~ “Shut up!” Lewis drew back on the seat. He sat with his lip in his teeth, a thought- ful crease between his brows. CoOMmicbook CO