The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 208: what you’re looking at

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

194 ing-point from which to begin an in- vestigation. Yet, knowing that to every puzzle there must be a satisfactory answer of some kind, he had shut himself away from all interruption, and with head between his hands, and all his faculties concentrated on the rather meager de- tails supplied him, was vainly striving to discern some light. It may be imagined, therefore, how welcome was the entrance of the mes- senger with the card at such a juncture. ‘““Some politician, I suppose,” he growled, “come to beg off for one of that bunch of captains I transferred yesterday? Why the dickens can’t those fellows—’” Then, as he reached out for the bit of pasteboard, and his eye fell on the engraved name with its penciled line of explanation underneath, the storm broke. “Mr. E. Bolingbroke Ramsdell!’ ” he exploded with thunderous disgust. “Tn reference to obtaining a position on the force!’ ” The hapless messenger cringed be- fore the blast of outraged wrath he saw coming; but, of a sudden, McCon- nell's humor changed. In spite of himself, his lips began to twitch, a twinkle crept into his blue eye, and then he burst into a roar of laughter. It was really too absurd that his weighty deliberations should be called upon to yield to the demands of a mere job-seeker—a job-seeker named Bo- lingbroke Ramsdell, at that. All at once his face grew serious, and he turned a keen, searching glance upon the waiting subordinate. “Charlie,” he said dryly, “ you've been with the department here about five years, more or less, haven’t you? ” “Yes, sir.” “ And in that time how many green- horns with an ambition to join the force have asked to see the commis- sioner? ”’ “Probably a thousand, sir; maybe more.”’ THE ARGOSY. “Exactly. And what answer do you usually make to them? ” “Why,” with the glib readiness of a well-learned lesson, “I always tell ’em to make a written application in due form, and then go to the civil service commission for examination.” “Ever bring in any of their cards to the commissioner before? ”’ “No, sir,” confessed the man hesi- tatingly, “I don’t believe I ever did, except maybe once or twice, when a district leader, or somebody like that, came along with ’em.”’ The commissioner sat silent for a moment or two. '“ Fir — Charlie,” he inquired at length, “ just how much did this guy slip you?” The messenger straightened up, and met the probing gaze bent on him al- most with an expression of relief. * Not a cent, commissioner,” he dis- avowed earnestly. ‘‘I knew you'd be thinking that; but it isn’t so, sir. On my honor, it isn’t.” McConnell was frankly puzzled. Shrewd judge of men that he was, he knew instinctively that the messenger was telling the truth. “Ts the fellow a friend of yours, then?” he hazarded. “Never saw him before in my life, sir.” McConnell’s patience, never his strongest virtue, gave completely away at this. “Look here, my man,” he snapped; “if you think this is a place for horse- play or kidding matches, you've got an- other guess coming. I want you to understand that—” “Oh, no, commissioner!” broke in the subordinate tremblingly. “Oh, no, sir! Id be the last person in the world to try anything like that.” “What the deuce do you mean, then, by bringing me a thing like this ’— contemptuously flipping the card with his forefinger—‘ when I expressly told you that I was not to be disturbed ex- cept for imperative business? ” The culprit stood silent, looking cComicbooks CO