Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

84 He left the room. Shelby felt that he had become more than a lay figure in the drama in Simpson’s estimation. The big man had come out of his shell so far as he was concerned. He seemed kinder, more human. Shelby understood that Simpson had been concentrating on something that excluded an interest in Shelby’s troubles. Now the thing which Simpson had been looking into and the accusation against Shelby were becoming merged in a well- rounded whole. Simpson’s perspective had been considerably enlarged. Simpson ad- mired men who did things, who got results. Shelby knew that he had won the detec- tive’s regard. He had become Simpson’s ally, his only one in this case, doubtless, and in so becoming he had insured his own safety. ; Simpson was back in five minutes, full dressed. He opened the table drawer and © took out two revolvers. “ Ever use a gun?” he asked Shelby. “No,” Shelby had to confess. Simpson put one of the revolvers in his pocket and the other back in the drawer. ‘“‘ You’re better unarmed if you can’t use a gun,” he said. ‘“ Come along.” Shelby was wise enough to ask no ques- tions. They went to the garage in the rear of the house. ‘“‘ Where’d you get the new duds?” Simp- son asked. ‘ They’re not as becoming as that nifty blue suit you had.” ‘¢ A friend lent me ten dollars,’ Shelby - said. “I put it into this outfit.” “T offered you money,” Simpson said dryly. “ T didn’t think I’d need it,” Shelby said. Simpson ran out his little car, and Shelby got in. He was quite happy now. Simpson had so far loosened up as to ask a question not pertinent to the business in hand. Silent Simpson couldn’t give more evidence of in- terested friendship than that. Simpson ran the car half a dozen blocks. He stopped before a modest house on a side street. “We'll go in here,” he said. They went up the steps, and Simpson’s ring finally brought a white-haired man to the door. He peered up at Simpson from old eves. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “It’s Simpson,” the detective said. He drew the oblong box from his pocket. “ Did you sell those?” he asked. The man glanced at the box and shook his head. ‘“‘T haven’t sold any of that size for two months,” he said. ‘“‘ Nor a gun that they would fit?” “No. Not for three months. Permits are mighty few these days, Simpson. It’s probably some of Mickey Blair’s stuff.” “I supposed so,” Silent said. “ And the road over to Jamestown is torn up on ac- count of the new pavement. Well, never mind.” He led Shelby back to the car. He ran it to the car line and followed that to the first street beyond the one which led down to the railroad. Presently he stopped be- fore a square brick building. “Why, it’s a police-station, Silent,” Shel- by said. “ What—” “If I were going to hand you over to the police I’d tell you so,” Simpson said. “Don’t worry.” He sprang down and went into the sta- tion. Through the front window Shelby saw him go to the grating, back of which a man in uniform stood. They talked a few minutes. Then the officer seemed to call some one. Another man in uniform joined Simpson before the grating. Again Simpson spoke to the first officer. Then he entered the room where the officer stood and talked at some length over the telephone there. A moment later he and the second officer came down the walk to the car. Shelby shivered back in his seat. He had come to have a horror of the police. To have one in the same car with him was rather too close for comfort. But the policeman did not look at him. He sat down on the rear seat. Simpson ran the car down to the tracks and stopped there. The policeman got down. He and Simp- son exchanged no word. The policeman walked along the track till he was opposite the entrance to the railroad offices. Then the shadows took him. Simpson ran the car behind the building, and he and Shelby got down. They went comiclboooks C©