Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

56 “ But, gee-whiz,” said Sweeney, “ think of goin’ in there and facing all them ginks. The super is there, and the trainmaster and the chief despatcher. I’d rather double ten times in one night in a blizzard than go in there.” “Tm not afraid of them,” Shelby said with more confidence than he felt. “ But I’ve got a scrap on my hands. Thornton is trying to frame me.” “Didn’t he send you that order?” Sweeney asked. “‘He did not.” ‘“* But says he did?” “‘ And says he did.” “The son of a gun,” said Sweeney. “ Ain’t it the limit what a despatcher will do when he gets in a hole?” “Tt is,’ Shelby said. ‘“‘ Have you seen Thornton?” - “He hasn’t showed up yet,” Sweeney answered. ‘He'll be here in a minute. I reckon they'll want to quiz him first. What ’ll you do if he hands you a lemon?” “T’m going to bust his face wide open,” Shelby asserted. Sweeney sat up, and the worried expres- sion left his face. “Well,” he said, ‘‘ mebbe I'll get some- thing out of this business to pay me, after all. Where will you pull off that stunt?” “TI don’t know. Depends on how mad I et.” . “You redheads get mad _ sudden,” Sweeney said. ‘‘ Shouldn’t wonder if you did it right here. If I’m called last, hold it till I come out, won’t you?” Before Shelby could answer ‘two men came through the door from the hall. Shel- by had never seen Thornton or his copier, Jake Osborne, but he recognized them now by some instinct. He was able to pick Thornton, too, from the first-trick man’s remarks about him. ; Thornton was forty-five, probably, a little stooped, bald as he took off his hat. “Tt ’d be a shame to lick him,” Shelby said. Osborne was more of a man physically. He was taller than Shelby, but not so broad of shoulder. He had a dark, restless eye and jet hair. “He looks like a dago,” Shelby said to ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. himself. ‘‘ He’ll stick by Thornton sure. Til bust his face, too, if he does.” Thornton and Osborne had just glanced toward Shelby. Doubtless they knew who he was, but if they did they gave no sign. Before they could sit down the door of the super’s office was opened. The day chief stood on the threshold. “* Come in, Thornton,” he said. Thornton stepped inside with an air of confidence. Osborne walked to a window and stood looking out, his back to the other men in the room. Thornton was in the super’s office only a few minutes. He still had his air of confidence when he came out. Osborne was called next, and the others in turn.. Shelby was last. In spite of himself, his heart was going pit-a-pat as he entered the office and the chief closed the door behind him. The super was sitting at his desk. The trainmaster was across from him. The chief took a chair beside the trainmaster. Shel- by glanced at the three officials, and then his eyes lighted on a big man sitting in a corner, his arms folded on his chest, his eyes on Shelby’s face. Hello, Silent,” Shelby said. Silent Simpson, the company’s chief of police, only nodded. He was a man who usually saved his words as a miser hoards his pennies. The super tapped on the blotting-pad on his desk with a long yellow pencil. There was a moment’s silence in the room; then the super looked up suddenly. His eyes were sharp and cold as Shelby looked into them. ‘“ Shelby,” he said, “‘ what became of the order that Thornton sent to you for the 88 this morning?” Shelby felt his blood rush into his cheeks. His temper boiled up and threatened to overflow. So the super, without a word from himself, already believed that Thorn- ton had sent that order. . Shelby swiftly perceived that a show of temper would hurt him now. He fought to keep his poise. It was half a minute before he could speak. Then he said in a low voice: comicloool C©