Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

SHELBY’S HEAD-ON CRASH. He considered rapping on the door and ask- ing if Osborne were at home. But he per- ceived quickly that that wouldn’t do. If Osborne were at home he couldn’t face him. If he were not, whoever answered the door would tell Osborne about his caller when Osborne came in. In any event, Os- borne’s suspicions would be roused. He saw that there was a vacant lot across the street from the house, and he went over there. Osborne’s house, being on the cor- ner, was in the light from the street lamp. Screened by the trees, Shelby studied it. He saw that there was a side entrance with a roofed-over porch. Above the roof there was a window, and in the window a sliding screen. “Tt ’d be a cinch to get in there,” Shel- by told himself. ‘I could shin one of those posts like a wheat. But just suppos- ing a cop should happen along!” For a while he balanced the hazard against the girl’s regard. If he returned to her and told her he had lost his nerve, those gray eyes would fill with scorn. For her own purpose she had had nerve enough to go to Thornton’s boarding-house and wait for him there alone. She wouldn't have much use for a coward. And she must have a very good reason for wanting to know about that typewriter. When he at last decided to enter the house he realized that he had merely been losing time by debating with himself. He knew now that he would have tried to gain an entrance if the house had been surround- ed by brass-buttoned cops. At the corner he stood and listened for a moment, and then he darted across the brief lawn and came to the porch. Again he listened. Silence was all about him. He shinned up one of the posts and climbed to the porch roof. Slipping out the screen, he stepped into a hallway and replaced the screen. ; ‘Holy smokes,” he breathed. pose somebody finds me.” His heart was leaping at his dry throat. His body was bathed in ckammy sweat, and shook like the far-famed trembling poplar. But he had to get busy or go back, and while he wished himself well out of the situ- ation, he was not ready to go back. rT; Sup- 77 “I’m. a darned fool, but here I go,” he said. The hall in which he stood was short. Across from him was the opened door of a bathroom. At his left was a closed door. Beyond the bathroom door was another closed door and beyond that a door partly open. He was in a dilemma. A person going to bed on this still, warm night would probably leave his door open. On the other hand, some one might lately have quitted that room and left the door ajar. In the latter contingency that was the room to explore; in the former it was the room to be left severely alone. In fact, if there was any one in that room he had better slide down the post and get away. Well, he had to have a look, since he had conte this far. He tiptoed to the door. There was not the slightest sound from within. He pushed the door farther ajar. Still no sound. He entered the room. In the dim light from without he could see at once that it was a man’s room. There was a pipe on the dresser at his elbow. A man’s coat hung on a chair. His eyes swept the room, and then in spite of himself ‘he uttered an exclamation of satisfaction. On a table in the corner stood a typewriter with a rubber cover over it. He could see the frame below the cover, He advanced swiftly to the machine and laid his hand on the cover to remove it. But he did not remove it. Instead he stood rooted to the spot. Down-stairs there had been a whirring noise. Shelby recognized it. In his ears it sounded loud. Some one was ringing the front door bell. ‘“* My God!” he breathed in acute terror. There was a step below stairs and the sound of the front door being opened. - “‘ Good evening,” said a man’s deep voice. “Good evening,” a woman returned. ‘My name is Simpson,” the voice went on. “I am chief of police of the E. and W. Railroad. I believe one of our men boards here—Mr. Osborne.” ‘Oh, yes,” the woman said. isn’t at home now. “‘ But he He usually goes out COMmiclboo SS C©