Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

As he paused there was an x of ition from the young clergyman. eri is Jimmie Connors's third lesson in shadow punching. I did not recognize sure,” said Connors as they clasped hands. ar , Even as Connors had taken his “ first posi- tion” the full significance of the strange request and the man’s right to make it, had swept through the mind of Bruce de Lisle, but for the moment he was amused by the cleverness with which the memories of other days had been conjured up. “ The really pood days.” True, it was the big things that had made those student days at New Brunswick worth while, and Connors’s Athletic Club had no right to any such classification—all this he knew. But the mere recollection of the fellows who used to gather there—the freedom from restraint the tests of physical strength. Oh, there were a thousand splendid memories that welled up! One of his treasured photographs was that of an old building down on the river front near the bottling works; a dingy butcher shop below—Connors’s club on the floor above. “Do you remember the night 1 was in- troduced to the club, Connors?” he asked. ‘Do I remember?” said Connors. ‘* The night I tried you out—don’'t be afraid, says I. Shoot out your mitt—lI’m here to get killed, 1 am. And then—oh, Lizzie! The mule kicked, and the lightening came. Also the floor came up and stuck splinters in my curly locks, and I went to sleep and heard the angels sing.” The Rev. Bruce de Lisle was enjoying the best all-around laugh he had indulged in for years—a laugh that was medicine to his bones. The silliest kind of mirth tears were blinding his eyes. “And in due season—you came back,”’ added Bruce. “ Sure, in due season,” said Connors. ‘ I lifts my head from the floor and asks: ‘ Was Many citizens killed by the earthquake?’ ” - But it never made any difference in our friendship—did it?” questioned the smiling clergyman. “Make any difference! Sure, it made a difference. The and bucked the river in the old town ever knew—you I you were all in, and threw up yo threw ’em up and yelled ‘ Help!’ : know why I said my prayers quicK ¢ kicked in after you, Mr. Bruce?” | “ Why, Connors?” a “ Because 1 remembered that punch.” - “And after you had rolled the yellow waters of the Raritan out of mel said: ‘Connors, you have saved my life. Call on me whenever I can be of any service to you.’ ? For the first time during the conversation Connors’s head sagged a bit. ‘“‘ That’s what’s bothering me, Mr. Bruce. I don’t want you to think that Pm going to rock the boat. I—you know. I cashed in on that promise once before.” Bruce smiled. ‘‘ You refer to my invest- ment in the Congo Products Company?” he asked. Connors expressed his affirmation by a sheepish nod that gave evidence of his em- barrassment. -“ Tell me,” continued Bruce, ‘‘ whatever became of the seafaring relative of yours— did he ever come back?”’ “That’s my trouble right now, Mr. Bruce, and this is the only time in my life that I regrets my lack of education.” ‘Why, Connors?” “I could do so much better if I knew just what kind of nice polite cuss words IT could use in talking to you about this yellow-skinned, puppy-eyed, soggy—”’ ‘‘ Easy, Connors,” interrupted the young clergyman. “ 1 overheard part of your con- versation at the door and on the strength of that will suggest that we start all over with a new deck—and make it a clean one this time. What has Captain Jake done now?” As Connors was about to launch out into a full recital of his troubles the door bell rang. i Just a moment, Connors. I think that this caller is also an old friend of yours. Andrew Bailey—do you remember the name?” - cComicboo CS