Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 91: what you’re looking at

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

GENTLEMAN ROGER’S hole he has maneuvered us into!” he cried. ‘The damned scoundrel! That was the object of the whole plot. To get us into his power.” Hal turned on Roger. “I sup- pose you know what his real incentive is?” Of course Roger knew. “ As long as I was with Celesta no harm could come to her,” he said stiffly. “How long would you last if you came between Campas and something he want- ed?” cried Hal. ‘ Strychnine in your cof- fee in the morning. Remember you're pro- posing to go live with them. They wouldn’t even have to account for you, because you’d be there under cover. If you wanted to keep alive you’d have to starve yourself to death!” Roger’s ruddy face blanched. ‘ But— but what’s the alternative?” he stammered. ‘We've got to beat it out of this place to-night.” “With four dollars between the three of us?” Hal walked up and down. “Let me think! Let me think!” he muttered. “ If that beast didn’t make me so damned mad I could think more clearly—” ‘“‘ Here’s my pin,” said Celesta. emerald is small, but—” “Ves, give it to me!” said Hal with a look of relief. ‘“The pawnshop is closed, but if the proprietor’s at home he’ll always make a deal.” He snatched up his hat and ran out. Nearly an hour passed before Hal re- turned. He had his arms full of old clothes which he threw down. “ How much did you get on it?” Roger asked eagerly. ‘“ Thirty-five; and I had to sell it.” Roger shrugged. ‘ Cost me a hundred and fifty.” “ The pawnbroker knew he had me.” ‘‘ Where’s the money?” ce Spent.” Roger’s eyebrows went up. ‘“T bought the dago’s piano-organ,” said Hal. Piano-organ!” cried Roger. love of Heaven—”’ ‘Oh, don’t let’s waste time quarreling over it,” said Hal. “It was the best thing that offered. It will provide us with a * The “ For the GIRL. 717 disguise, and with a means of earning our living, too. With the piano, they threw in enough of their dago clothes to set out the three of us. I got walnut juice from the drug store. We’ve got to spend most of the night making each other up . At dawn we'll beat it.” “What good will make-up do us if the first time we open our mouths—” “We'll have to keep ’em closed, then. We're going into the country where they’re not familiar with dagoes.” CHAPTER XIl. THE STREET MUSICIANS. T evening, three days later, a weary, dark-skinned trio accompanied by a street piano, approached the outskirts of the city of Glassboro, sixty miles from Westmoreland. They loked discouraged. The country foik had enjoyed their music well enough; food and lodging had been freely forthcoming; but it had not occurred to the farmers that cash contributions were called for, and the musicians were not ex- perienced enough to know how to suggest it. So they arrived in Glassboro no richer than they had set out from Westmoreland. They found a miserable lodging with a fam- ily too closely occupied with the struggle to make ends meet to betray much curiosity about their guests. Glassboro was a busy manufacturing place, not so large as Westmoreland. All along the road the musicians had been tell- ing themselves they would do better in a town. In town, they had agreed, it would be safer for Celesta and Roger to remain under cover while Hal perambulated with the piano. Hal had been sedulously practic- ing an Italo-American jargon en route. He set off in the morning full of hope. He made quite an effective young Neapolitan, with his eyes dancing, and his teeth gleam- ing in his swarthy face. The battered felt hat, and the quaintly cut jacket, while a trifle small for him, were full of character. At nightfall he returned weary and dis- couraged. A miserable handful of copper coins was all he had to show. Eighty-three cents for a day’s work! Gomichdooks (F@