Argosy, Vol. 123, No. 1 — page 73: what you’re looking at

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

NEW STUFF “ Twelve, offers the woman who’d spoke before. | ; I cuss the stupid bunch of lunkheads I’d brought with me. “Well, I think, “as long as it’s goin’ this way, I’d better get all the money I can! If these people insist on buttin’ in on my private auction sale, they’ve got to pay for it!” “Twelve dollars!’’ I sneer. twelve dollars offered for this beautiful piece of architecture!” “ Thirteen!” bids a big guy in the corner. | Well, I finally kidded them up as high as nineteen bucks at which figger I was forced to knock the chair down to a young girl with red hair. Not that the red hair had anything to do with it, but I just happen to remember. I guess the chair was a bargain at that, but that didn’t bother me. I was busy enough between wonderin’ what the name was of the crime I was commitin’. Of all the stuff the Elliot’s bought from Flubb & Company I managed to sell to my crew one pitcher, a kitchen table and a sofa with busted springs. The rest of the stuff was bid in by the neighbors, and, when I sold the last Flubb article—a parlor lamp —I had in my pockets some two hundred dollars that didn’t belong there. “ Well, folks,” I say when the lamp goes to a woman for four-eighty, “ that’s all. The sale’s over. I thank you.” _ And then I start to get down from my chair. But there comes a cry from the corner. “Oh, Mister Sheriff! Young feller! Wait a second!” It’s Mrs. Elliot. She rushes over to me, grabs me by the arm. “Listen. What ll you take to auction off the rest of the stuff in the flat?” “The rest of the stuff!” co What—”’ “ Sure!’ she grins. ‘I'd like to get rid of it—if I can get any prices like you got for that other stuff.” “Twenty per cent.,”’ I tell her. ‘“‘ Go to it!’”’ she bids me. I go. ain’t got a bed to sleep in or a pot to cook I gasp. “ Only Inside of a half-hour the Elliots FOR ELLIOT, 63 with, but they have got a hundred and six- teen bucks. The followin’ mornin’ I’m at the store of Flubb & Company as soon as they’re open for business. ‘Mr. Flubb,” I ask, “‘ what would you say this account was worth?”’ “Well,” he says with a smile, “ I’d say it wasn’t worth anything. Why?” “‘T’ve found these folks,” I tell him. “I think maybe I could get you a hundred and fifty for a receipted bill.” ‘““Get it!” he snaps. ‘ Don’t hesitate!” “We get a commission—on the full amount?” I ask. “Of course! Of course!” he says. ‘‘ And T’ll tell you confidentially, Conner, that we're making a good profit at that!” “You'd be satisfied, then, with a hun- dred and ten?” I inquire. “A hundred and ten?” he repeats. ‘“ Oh, yes, certainly, we would.” “Well, here it is,” I tell him, countin’ the money off from what I’d gathered at the auction. ‘But, Conner,” he says, ‘‘ but—” “ But—nothin’!”” I grin. You’ve got what you said you’d be satisfied with.” ‘“‘ But there’s somethin’ wrong here,” he insists. “‘ Where did you get this money?” I tell him. , “And,” I finish, “if you don’t think I ~ earned what I have over—”’ “Get out of here!” he laughs. ‘“ You’re a highbinder! Get out—before I’m tempted to have you arrested! And, by the way,” he calls after me as I leave his office, ‘‘ any time you want to leave Giles— there’s a job waiting for you here.” “Oh, I wouldn’t leave Giles!” I grin, ‘“T can cheat him easier than I can you!” On the way to the street I see what looks like a familiar figger pokin’ around among the furniture in the store. It’s Mrs. Elliot. I duck behind a bookcase and hear enough of what she’s sayin’ to the salesman to let me know that, under the name of Mrs. Ara- bella O’Gara, she’s investin’ what I handed her the night before as the first deposit on a new set of housefurnishin’s. I guess itll be up to me to pull off another auction sale before I’m many years older! DOOLK C@