Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 80: what you’re looking at

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

550 = It was a good omen. Arthur went de- - liberately through the bills. “Correct,” said he. — -Lyons grunted and went back into the other room as if no such person as Arthur Tower had ever occupied even one tran- sient moment of his mind or duty to the commonwealth. The favorable popent was thus much enlarged. | ~ Then Cassidy said: “ Td like & check up this police record of the investigation, thus far, if you don’t mind, Mr. Tower, so Tl ask you a few questions.” ““Am I charged with any crime?” ea No.” “Thank you. I couldn’t imagine just what could be behind my first arrest; but that wonder is merged into the greater curi- osity of how much you know about me since. If you'll first read that—” “Ts Tacky for you,” cut in Cassidy, - tather tartly, “that we know a whole lot about you, including the fact that you are just what you told us on the train you ~ were: that you did come down from Bos- ton yesterday morning; and that you did come in on a local train from Bonicrest, just in time to hook up with Patrolman McGuire’s first glimpse of you. I merely want to see if the department is in error- in any-of the minor details.” Arthur gave his name, place of birth, occupation, name of employer before com- ing to New York, education, date of grad- uation and a few. other inconsequential things. “That’s all,” said Cassidy, when he had finished. “You mean I am free to leave?’ “We could lock you up on a eo of evading arrest, and escaping from cus- tody, as Mr. Lyons told you on the train; but Patrolman McGuire does not feel that he cares to press the original charge, now = that it looks as if you had nothing criminal “up your "sleeve when you first skipped out on him.” Ee & wich you would say to him, for me, that T am sorry he misjudged my actions.” “Police business,” cryptically returned Cassidy, “ don’t always turn oui like it looks. _It looked like you’d got away, didn’t fe" get Shelby 8900. answer at all. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “Yes, sir, it did.” “ But McGuire” “McGuire stated that you aise his suspicions, at first, by standing in the middle of the street for a long time, star- ing into the crown of your hat. He didn’t know but you might have been a demented person.”’ Just here Lyons again emerged from the Inner room with a changed expression. “T guess,” said he, with a more engaging mien than hitherto, “that we better take the edge off that bust-in we made on you, Mr. Tower, The ladies seemed rather hard hit. If you say so, PU call up.. Do you know the number?” Arthur smiled. Lyons knew it as well as himself, beyond doubt, but sheer polite- ness forbade the incurring of more ill feel- ing while prudence forbade, no less. “ Thank you. May I talk with her, after you have finished?” “Surest thing you know!” Mrs. Moran, replying, was very indig- nant at Lyons when he delicately intimated the “arrest is all a mistake,” and next very cordial with Arthur. She invited him to return at once, and was for summarily dis- charging Foster, but. Arthur told her he held no- umbrage, and the man was only doing what he thought to be right. He bade the detectives good day and at the first convenient booth tried, again, to _ This time there was no It was the only fly in the amber on his way back to Bonicrest. No more amazed resident of the fashion- able country section existed than the surly station agent, as the recent “criminal ” darted for the taxi he had despised the ‘morning of his first arrival. When the contrite Foster opened the door, Mrs. Moran was there, as well. “You poor boy! | Felice tells me you’ve taken to a sort of cinema existence. At least, you flash in and out of Bonicrest like one of the high priced stars, but your adventures seem.to be real enough! We're Waiting dinner for you!” Arthur laughed, shook hands, and fol- lowed Foster up to his room, even permit- ting that worthy to unlock the bag, in which fresh linen masked much of the contents. - rea { Arthur reddened. | = COMIGDOOKS:GO