Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

peel ker ek 3 4 ane: art 164 The judge waved a hand deprecatingly. “No.” He was evidently distraught and had mentioned the radio only as a means of opening an unpleasant conversation. Finally, with an effort, he revealed the sub- ject which evidently had brought him in. ‘““T didn’t want Clem Newt t’ nail up that notice, Cyrus,” he half apologized. ‘“‘ Fact is, I held him off a day, until—vwell, I just wouldn’t let him do it yestiddy, but to-day he—ye see, I hain’t no choice in these doings. As the duly sworn and certified Justice of the Peace of the Township 0’ Linkersport I plumb got tew issue a sheriff’s notice when it’s applied fer, regular, follow- in’ the record of judgment and th’ due lapse of time. Do you follow me, my boy? Do you understand what I am saying?” Cyrus began to understand. “ Oh, that notice on the door?” he ejaculated. “I didn’t read it.” “ Hum!” The judge twiddled his thumbs. It would be even harder than he anticipated. . After a moment of-silence he plunged on, but with an effort. “It means, Cyrus,” he said, “ that Mr. Harper has judgment ag’in’ yer father’s estate an’ has levied a sheriff’s execution to collect.” ‘““ What!” Cyrus exclaimed, as the situa- tion dawned on him. “ You don’t mean he'll take the gallery from me?” ‘“ That’s it, my boy! it.” The judge wiped his brow. It had been hard, but the quick intelligence of his friend’s son had spared him too much ex- planation. Cyrus clenched his hands, shut his mouth tight, stared straight ahead and _ said nothing. SAvsa ppeeee shame, Cyrus,” the judge went on. “I’m speakin’ to ye, now, in my private and particular capacity of friend to Andrew Bullitt, who is gone and can no longer defend himself, an’ I’m out of chambers an’ without judicial co’nizance, an’ I’m here to say that Mr. Harper is a hard man. Very hard. But he said it was his right. There might be other ee Bose: and he could not wait.” “You mean the—the gallery isn’t mine? They'll take it?” aS ae The ee nodded his head slowly. I’m afraid that’s — ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ‘But my hand-rest for target pistols with the automatic sight—can they take that, toor” Cyrus suddenly trembled with appre- hension. The judge reassured him, explaining that was his personal property and could not be touched for debts owing by the deceased. ** And my motor cycle?” ‘No, my boy. ‘That is safe.” “ And my radio?” ‘“No. They can’t touch that, nor your clothes, nor any of your personal effects.’’ Cyrus smiled, for the first time in five days. Indeed, he was pervaded by a subtle satisfaction of which he was unconscious. A major problem, a very weighty one, and one which he had not dared face squarely, was being solved for him. The judge, enjoying his stogie now, con- tinued, in more amiable mood. ‘“ Perhaps I ought to tell you, my boy, I wouldn’t trade my memory o’ Andrew Bullitt’s friendship fer all Mr. Harper’s money, an’ th’ stock o’ th’ bank thrown in. No siree! I'll tell ye somethin’ else. His name ain’t Harper, either. His father’s name was Hertsky. He’s only second generation stuff, new-rich scum. But take Andrew Bullitt. Now there was a man as came down from th’ real old days. I suppose you realize as how his great-great-grandfather signed the Declaration of Independence?”’ “Father said so once,” Cyrus admitted. It meant little to him, but he wanted to please the judge. “Well, I'll tell ye somethin’ mebbe ye don’t know,” the fount of judicial wisdom continued. ‘“‘ Yer father by rights ought t’ had a hundred millions of dollars, mebby more.” Cyrus gasped: “ What?” The judge chewed his stogie a bit to give full dramatic pause to his statement and then calmly resumed. ‘“ He never told ye, I'll bet.” Cyrus negatived with his head. “No. Th’ blow was too deep. He never told anybody, but I knew—in a curious way. I was readin’ law in Owsley’s office in them days, nigh thutty years ago, when yer father come to Linkersport first. He’d been out West with a Grand Duke of Russia and then he’d bin a partner o’ one o’ th’ Vanderbilts who died ’thout makin’ no ECOmichboo S iGO