Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 14: what you’re looking at

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

644 offered, or brushing them aside. Feminine outcries, masculine oaths and expostulatory mouthings, were the accompaniment of his progress. But Eddie didn’t mind. His fists were clenched in readiness against his body as he. forged ahead. His eyes peered in straining fashion straight before him, in search of the one he hoped to find. And when he found him— For the time being that was his sole consideration—w/em he found him. He set his teeth and ran. Suddenly his searching vision was re- warded. Just ahead he caught sight of a dimly familiar figure—lank, clad ina grey suit and a soft hat and threading the streaming life of the thoroughfare in a quickly dodging fashion indicative of haste. . Plainly the fellow thought he had given him the slip. He wasn’t running any longer, but he wasn’t lingering either. Eddie’s square jaw shot out at a somewhat menac- ing angle. He caught a deep breath pre- paratory to a final spurt that should land him beside the other. He leaped ahead like a hound in sight of its quarry, and— The breath was nearly throttled in his throat, his coat was almost torn off his back, as a heavy hand laid hold upon his collar and checked his further progress with a most amazing twist. “ Fast, ain't you!” a heavy voice panted thickly. ‘ But not quite fast enough.” Eddie glared at a bulky blue-clad fig- ure, a red and perspiring face, and but- tons of well-kept brass. And the hand of that figure was maintaining its initial grip on his collar. Harmon’s expression altered a trifle. Some of the glare of annoyance at this fresh interference with his individ-. ual purposes went out of his eyes. Like the average law-abiding citizen, he had a certain respect for the uniform of law and order. He said the first thing that popped -into his mind: “Let go, officer. Maybe I was going pretty fast, but—I was trying to catch a man.” “So was I.” The patrolman did not release his hold, nor, despite the somewhat facetious humor in his reply, could it be said that he exactly grinned, although his teeth showed for a single instant between his heavy lips. ‘“ But—” Harmon’s first annoyance be- . ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. gan to give way to something else—some- thing vague, not exactly to be named; “he'll get away, I tell you, if you don’t let me go. He— gave me a hundred dollar bill, and—” : “What!” The policeman maintained his unrelenting grip, but his query showed sur- prise. ever the man who had acted in such a re- markable manner might have been, he had gained an overwhelming lead. Restitution and revenge would have to wait now, thanks to this interruption. But despite the reali- zation, he was still a good deal excited, and he blurted for the literal truth: “He slapped my face.” ‘“‘ Who did?” his captor demanded. “ Say —what’s the notion?” Eddie took a long breath. ‘‘I don’t know,” he declared. “I’m a stranger in town, and—” ‘““ And so’s your story.” Once more the policeman bared his teeth. “It’s a lot stranger than I’d have expected after your jumpin’ on top of me offen that roof an’ runnin’ out on me for half a dozen blacks.”’ “But I’m telling you the truth!” Harmon was growing more and more dis- turbed as he discovered that no matter what he said, he was not turned loose. And something of a panic seized him at the policeman’s words. “I don’t know any- thing about any roof, officer, really— I’m a stranger in town and I’ve told you exactly what happened and why I was trying to catch him.” The grip on his collar tightened. He became conscious of a ring of staring faces —a wall of fellow beings about him, the jostling, milling press of a sidewalk mob. Toward one side of that press he felt him- self none too gently propelled. He gulped down a strange, round, chok- ing something that suddenly seemed to be rising up in his throat. ‘‘ Honestly officer—” he began excitedly. ‘“ Aw tell it to th’ judge. Come on now —open up there.” With the unhesitating manner of his kind, the patrolman began breaking his and Harmon’s way through the crowd. “Hello, Jenkins—what’s the shindy?” COMMIC OOOLKS It was too late. Eddie knew it. Who- Mr. (S@)