Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 103: what you’re looking at

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

SHELBY’S HEAD-ON “What do you mean now?” he asked. Simpson leaned forward in his chair. “Tl just tell you, Osborne,” he said in a low voice. ‘I saw Mrs. Osborne in the hospital this morning. I went over this thing with her. She is suffering from ner- vous exhaustion and she was glad at last to rid her mind of the whole business. She’s a broken woman, ill and alone. Aren’t you proud of that?” “You'll keep away from her,” Osborne said with as much viciousness as he could put into his trembling voice. ‘ She’s my wife, you'll just remember.” “She told me how she had come back to the house that night in the rain,’”’ Simp- son said. ‘ As she opened the front door there was a shot. With the pliers you bought from Mickey Blair you had cut away the scteen from a rear window and entered the house. Thornton, meeting no one at the place you had named, had re- turned home. “ Mrs. Osborne ran into the hall just as you started down the stairs. In your hand you held the gun you had bought from Mickey Blair. Thornton lay in his room dying. “Mrs. Osborne cried out at you. You threatened her with the gun. You said you’d kill her if she ever told. She was ter- ribly frightened. You made her go on her knees and swear she would protect you. You made her promise to call the police as soon as you had left and to tell them about Shelby’s visit to the house—to tell about that in such a way that the police would at once suspect Shelby. Terrified, she obeyed you. “ But reaction came to her and a nervous illness. In that reaction and that illness she has told the truth to me. ‘“‘ Osborne, you killed Thornton yourself. You fired into his body one of the cartridges you bought from Mickey Blair. You fired it from the gun that Shelby knocked out of your hand in the other room. I’ve waited some time to get you right and now I’ve got you. If you make a move I'll shoot you dead. ‘‘ You’ve played the lowest, meanest game a man can play. You can’t make amends, but you can pay, and I’m going to take a CRASH. 92 lot of satisfaction out of making you pay. My car is down-stairs. Comeon. I'll take you to the station.” Osborne tried to rise, but seemed help- less. Simpson walked over to him and roughly assisted him. They passed through the door when Shelby had opened it. Shel- by stood there till they had crossed the despatchers’ room, passed through the hall door, and were on their way down the stairs. Then Shelby turned to the night chief. “Silent is certainly a rough customer when he gets started, isn’t he?” the night chief asked. ‘“‘ He’s rough, but he’s square,” Shelby said. ‘“ Mr. Mack, I wonder if I get my job back?” “Why, sure,” Mack said. ‘ You better come down and see Drake after breakfast. I'll be through pretty soon. Come up and eat with me.” ‘Simpson and I had breakfast a while ago,” Shelby said. “I’ve got to go up- street for a minute.” “ [ll tell Drake about this when he shows up,” Mack said. “Much obliged,” said Shelby. He went into the despatchers’ room. The night operator was working on the east wire. Some one was calling on the west wire. “ Shall I take that?” Shelby asked. ‘Sure, if you want to,” the operator an- swered. A station along the line had a lone, brief message. Shelby took it and gave his O. K. As he went down the stairs his finger-tips tingled. “Gee!” he murmured. glad to get back?” He walked rapidly up the street to the car line corner. He was about to board a car when some one seized him and drew him back. He turned*to look up into the red face of a policeman. ““Nix on that,” the policeman said. ‘You been roamin’ for quite a spell and you’re beginnin’ to get your nerve, ain’t your Well, we been combin’ the town for you again since Jamestown phoned over that you had been there and Simpson had got you away on a railroad engine. Simp- son is a fresh guy, ain’t he? Well, you come along.” “Won't I be comicloool C©