Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 65: what you’re looking at

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

THE. FOURTH CHUM. not think Pearsley would have known? Do you think he would have said: ‘ Yes, mon general, here are twenty thousand pounds of jewels.’ Ah, no! The man who would talk to Pearsley must be a detective and work as a detective works. That is the advice J get from Cartier. “Tt does not sound plausible? No? I am sorry, sir, but that is the way I have seen it, and that is the way I have done. And I shall not change.” Morgan smiled. “ Charming as you are, I will tell you frankly it does not sound—reasonable. I think it would be wisest for you to go to the general now, tell him your trouble, and let him follow the case up for you. I beg that you will do that.” “T will not.” She moved and drew the cape closer about her. “ My word, it is dark suddenly, and cold. It seems to me as if we were in a small boat, you and I. That is this bench and the fog about is the ocean.” Morgan nodded, for her fancy was just what had been in his own mind. The fog had settled so thick that he could not see six feet before him. The lamp cast a smoky halo about them, but beyond was a steamy darkness. “Perhaps you think I am strange. I hope that I am. I have hear’ that in your country one man of business will travel sev- eral days to see another man of business. He wishes to buy several millions of francs in boots, let us say, or toothbrushes. They meet. One says he will buy so many millions of francs of boots or toothbrushes, and the other will say: ‘All right. You shall have them to-morrow.’ “ That is not the way in this part of the world, my frien’. If I went to your general, even if I succeed in getting his ear, I shall have to wait a year before he will do any- thing, then I wait ten year for the govern- ment to turn the diamonds over to me. “No. I ask nothing more of you. 1! shall go on by myself, and, sir, I think I shall succeed. During the war I have not denie’ myself one small lump of sugar. Peo- ple have said I should be damned, but IT have not been.” “ And I,” answered Morgan, feeling the 855 lumpy box next his skin, “ still think you had best go to the general. If not to him to a solicitor. If not to a solicitor, to Scot- Jand Yard.” “The police!” scorn in her voice. There was a faint footfall behind him, and he turned on the bench. Above him towered a dim shape in the fog with an arm upraised to strike. He sprang to his feet with a hoarse cry of rage, and raised his arm to shield himself. His head was struck a glancing blow, and a streak of pain shot through his shoulder as the blackjack ended its sweep there. “Damn you!” he cried in a frenzy. “You hussy!” The woman had disappeared as mysteri- ously as she had appeared in the morning. He found that he stood alone and he made out three assailants. There might be more. He stood with his arms bent and his el- bows out, but when the biggest of the three rushed he did not strike. He seemed to be chained and fumbled at the man with his hands, He pushed him back, but he came again. ‘For God’s sake, don’t touch me!” cried Morgan. “ Don’t make me strike you!” In spite of the rage at his betrayal at the woman’s hands, he did not fight. The at- tack, which had been scattering, now as- sumed a strategical shape. One tall figure bulked on his right, an- other, not so tall, but still powerful, was on his left, and as he looked over his shoul- der he saw in the nimbus of light a short man on whose dark face the light played. He recognized him as that batman who had been in the clink with him and who had made his escape over a coal pile. Morgan put out his hands and doubled his fists as they came at him, but when they were within striking distance, his cour- age seemed to fail; he met the two before him, body to body, and struggled with them ineffectually, while the man behind him ran in with the blackjack raised. Morgan groaned. He knew they were after the stones. They, too, had got wind of them through the dark-skinned man who had been in the clink with him. He remem- bered the queer voice in which the latter There was a world of EOMMicoooks.ec©