Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 108: what you’re looking at

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

— born! 18 _ He departed amid a chorus of obscene protests. It was only a few rods to his modest _ story-and-a-half frame house. Lighting an oil lamp when inside, he went to the pan- try, found a jar of dried beef, some bread and butter, salt pickles. Taking them to the kitchen table, he prepared a dozen generous sandwiches. Upon the beef he sprinkled salt, and added prepared mus- tard. _ Wrapping the whole in clean brown paper, he blew out the lamp, closed with- out locking the front door, and was back at the neat little brick lock-up within ten minutes of the time he had left it. Cautiously edging up to the single barred -window—it occurred to him that the men might have guns on them—he called out, and shoved his parcel in through the grat- ing. : To their renewed threats and pleas he paid not the slightest attention; but with a cheery good night he strode, whistling down the road to the tavern. ‘““Where’s the others?” Ed Mosely asked as he came in. “ And what the Sam Hill - did that crazy yarn you told us mean, any- way?” Joe Grant did not at once reply. He seated himself, reached for the yellow pitcher and poured himself a half glass of cider. “Them? up, Ed.” “In the—what for? You—” “Tt’s like this, Ed. Minute I see that feller that was shy a thumb, he looked sort of familiarlike. I couldn’t place him, and it fretted me some. It wan’t till we began to play cards and I watched him deal so sort of nimble, that it come over me who he was. ’Member the robbery of the North- ampton Bank, two year ago come Octo- ber?” “Sure, I do! time.” “ Well—they sent out circulars, you know. I got a sheaf of ’em. And one of ’em was this Thumb feller, sure’s you're With a thousand dollars’ reward, dead or alive. But me, I’m peaceablelike. So I’m keepin’ him alive.” Why, I left ’em in the lock- Made stir enough, at the ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, “But — but are you sure, Joe? They looked hard-boiled enough, but a mistake would be kinda serious.” “Yeah,” agreed Grant. ‘“‘ That’s how I reasoned it out. So, when I went out to get that drink of water—you ’member, Ed —I slipped upstairs quiet as I could, and into their room. They only had one suit case with ’em, and it was locked. But you know I’m kind of handy with locks and things. I’d seen a light down the hall from under Ella’s door; so I knew she was still awake. I sneaked down and scratched on the door, and whispered through the key- hole, and she opened the door a crack and give me a hairpin and a buttonhook. And I soon had the contraption open. What I see inside left me in no doubt but them fellers needed lockin’ up. I put everything back in, after taking out the ca’tridges from two automatics, But wait; Ill go get it and show you. While I’m upstairs, get Pittsfield for me on your phone, Ed. Ask for police headquarters.” In a couple of minutes the contents of the suit case were spread before the as- tounded Mosely, upon the same table they had been playing poker on a half hour before. Joe Grant explained the use of the little celluloid strips, called attention to the sectional jimmy. “Vanadium steel; you could pry open a roundhouse with it, and it don’t weigh a pound!”’ Mosely took out the thermos bottle, shook it, laid it down endwise, and it. began to roll gently down the sloping surface of the old table, unnoticed by either. “Moonshine, most likely,” Ed hazarded. “T guess likely. We'll turn everything over to the police.” The bottle rolled over again, hesitated at the edge of the table, tetered there, and Joe absent-mindedly reached out and picked it up, dropping it carelessly into the suit case among the metallic objects packed away there. “Might break, if it dropped,” he said simply. There it lay inert, a superexplosive capa- ble of cracking the Great Pyramid like a paper shell pecan! oO Eomichooks (©)