Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 16: what you’re looking at

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

806 “Is it, now?” Dennis’s tone held a touch of awe. “ Do you mean that all they'll have to do when a crime’s com- mitted will be to sit down and figure out whether the lad who pulled it off was a lunatic, maybe, or ’twas born in him, or a matter of habit ér the only time he’d tried it, or else that he’d been brought up to it? And what would the crook be doing mean- while? He’d still have to be caught.” “Tt would all help, even though we don’t “get the hang of it, or the commissioner would not be trying it on the boys,” de- clared McCarty loyally. ‘Some of them that have not yet been promoted to head- quarters would not be hurt by anything that would teach them to use their heads now and then, I’m thinking!”’ There was that in his voice which made his companion straighten in his chair, the mild gray eyes sparkling with eager interest. ‘“Who’s been blundering now?” he de- manded. “I ought to have known you would not be trailing around in the storm till near ten o’clock for the sake of your health! What is it, Mac? For the love of God, are you on another case?” “T am not!” responded McCarty with dignity. ‘I’m a real estate owner, as well you know, with no connection with the po- lice department any more, and if an ex- hausted man in mortal terror or agony drops dead in his tracks and they ship him to the morgue as an acute alcoholic it’s nothing to me!” Dennis emptied the contents of his pipe into the tray and rose. ‘Where do we start from?” he asked ex- citedly. ‘“ Thanks be, I’ve the next twenty- four hours off duty! Do we have a talk with his folks first or what?” “ First and last, we mind our own busi- ness this time!’”? McCarty waved toward the chair. ““‘ Sit down again and light up, Denny, and I'll give you the dope on it, though there’s little enough according to Terry Keenan and Mike Taggart—” “Perry Keenan and Mike—’” Dennis obeyed tensely. ‘ That ‘ll be down in the old precinct, then, along the water front! Who was the guy and what was he running from when he dropped?” McCarty gave an account of the evening’s ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. occurrence concisely, yet omitting no sig- nificant detail, and when he had finished his visitor sat silent for a moment, turning the story over in his none too quick mind. Then he remarked: “T don’t get it at all, Mac. A prosper- ous, middle-aged, respectable looking fellow by what you say, with never a scrap of paper on him to show who he was, only that bit of a metal tag! He must have been run- ning from somebody! Did you look behind you?” “TJ did not, and neither did he.” Mc- Carty paused. ‘‘ Mind you that, Denny! I didn’t say he was trying to get away from anybody. The way he was running and stopping and then reeling along once more showed that if he was not half crazed with pain, ’twas only will power kept him going as far as he got. When Terry and I rushed to him after he fell and turned him over, the gray look of his face came from more than his slowing heart and it was sheer hor- ror that stared out of his eyes. He was conscious, too, though the end came in less than a minute, and muttering with his last breath.” ‘Do you think he might have been going some place down among the wharves at that hour, and running till his heart burst to get there on time?” Dennis’s pipe had gone out in his excitement and he laid it on the tray with a tremulous hand. ‘“ Was it blackmail? Did he think whoever was waiting would kill him if he didn’t show up? Mac, what manner of man was he? Fine’ quality clothes and cheap shoes, elegant jewelry and a gold filled watch that could be bought on the installment plan. The cigar case was real pigskin, you tell me, but— what kind of cigars was in it?” ‘“‘ Denny, you’ve rung the bell again, even though you don’t know it!” McCarty gazed for a moment in affectionate but unflattering surprise at his old friend. ‘‘ The cigars were Coronas, and there’s no better nor more costly made. For all the clothes were of grand quality, they didn’t fit him; they’d been carefully altered, but they’d been made in the beginning for a taller and thinner man—and they’d had good wear. Only the cheap shoes were new, and though the links and pin were as refined Gomichbooks:co