Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 4 — page 98: what you’re looking at

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

568 “Say ”—I spilled some egg on the table- cloth—“ what are you talking about?” “Nothing in particular, and a lot in generalities. I didn’t go to sleep when you thought I did. And I found out in a very little while that you were awake. And Lucius, when you stay awake nights, there’s something in the wind besides air. So I’m just coppering all bets. I want you to make me a promise that whatever money or bene- fits accrue through our acquaintanceship and pleasant companionship with Horace Q. Keever shall be absolutely on the level.” “ But for the love of Pete, you’re not going to run him out of our Hall of Infamy when he comes in there to leave us his money?” ‘Certainly not. That’s perfectly legiti- mate. Besides, he gets a return for all his money, a souvenir, a bit of brightness to cheer his sober hours, and plenty of friend- ship and congeniality. No, there’s nothing wrong about that whatever. But as to the other—”’ : What on earth could you do with a man whose mind worked like that? I promised. That night I saw Horace Q. come into the Fake-Shop, drop his usual thousand, and walk out again without even cheeping a word to him that I’d like to spend a few pleasant hours in his company. The next night the same, and the next after that. Then— It was Ed, Ed waving goggle-eyed to me from behind the near-beer bar when the evening guests departed, waving and making motions. I hurried to him—to find him gasping for breath. 3 ‘“ T’ve got the whole thing!” he bubbled. ‘Oh, Lucius, it’s awful!” ‘“'Who’s dead?” ‘“‘T am—nearly—from excitement. I sup- pose it was the wrong thing to do, and to be really honest, I feel terrible about it, and I never should have read the thing; but actually my eyes were on it before I knew what I was doing, and—”’ “Tell the story first, and the details afterward.” Ed just looked at me and made motions with his mouth. Then, staring all about him like the guy in the movies just before he walks in to rob the bank, he pulled a letter from under his bar-towel. THE ARGOSY. “Horace Q. Keever dropped it to-night, just as he left the joint. I know I oughtn’t have read it, and I wouldn’t if I’d stopped to think, but—” “Oh, shut up.” Then I opened the letter and read it: My pbEAR Horace: Thanks for your code-telegram telling me that you hed obtained the blanket lease on the Bar T Ranch. That cinches everything. Keep on making the stall that you’re from Towa, and that you’re going to use the place as a sheep ranch. Nobody there should sus- pect you. How that place up there has escaped the Standard Oil Company and the rest of the big operators is more than I know. ‘The one test that I ran down—fifty feet—showed me conclusively that the sand is absolutely the same as in the Rock Creek and other big - fields, with the exception, of course, that they have to go down three thousand feet to get oil, where we will have to go down only a matter of a hundred and fifty. Keep things dark, and grab up all the land you can get hold of. Don’t tip it to a soul. The minute that’s done, we're lost. James V. BARNETT. I just stood and gurgled. Ed was doing the same thing. Finally I looked at him, and he looked at me. ‘ Well,” he asked. “Take off that bar-apron,” I ordered him; “we're going down to see Mr. Keever.”’ Which we did. We found him in his pajamas, smoking a cigar that smelled like a hundred dollars. to keep him quiet while I had my say, then I pulled out the letter. “Mr. Keever,”’ I said, “ it’s all off.” He took one look at the letter and waved his arms like a windmill. ‘“Where’d you get that?” “You dropped it up in our spread-eagle joint. And we just thought we’d come down and return it to you like a couple of good boys, and then go and tell the rest of the town ‘what’s doing.”’ “Oh, boys!” his voice was like a tomb- stone works. ‘‘ Let me ask you: don’t do that! Please don’t do that. Why—why, it ’d mean—it ’d mean—” “We know what it ’d mean. But this is a nice, select, home-loving little community here that resents people coming in from the I stepped on Ed’s foot . outside and playing funny tricks on ’em, AMICLOOO@ (C(O) S (C(C)