Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 189, No. 4 — page 163: what you’re looking at

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

THE OFF in me hanging around, then.” And before the other realized it, Tempest was gone. VI. Jack devoted himself to the Pyle house- hold once more. Prodded Trent’s memory fiercely in regard to the man who had struck him down. The picture which the butler’s repeated descriptions imprinted on Jack’s mind took definite form until at last he had it! He knew exactly the man Trent had been por- traying for him. “ Beano” Kelly! That was the bird! He asked Trent: ‘ Did he throw up his jaw at you when he spoke?”’ “By the Lord!” exclaimed the butler. “He did. I wouldn’t ’ave thought of that if you ’adn’t mentioned it, sir. But ‘e did!” “Good enough, Trent,’ Jack said, and hastened to New York. He was jubilant. Beano would not he hard to round up. Once he laid hands on him, the trick would be pretty well turned. The juicy rewards seemed already within his grasp. Fine business. As it turned out, rounding up Beano proved no trick at all. A visit to head- quarters in Manhattan easily established his whereabouts. For, as Jack presently be- came aware, Arthur—Beano—Kelly was at the moment engaged in serving a six-year sentence in the State Prison at Trenton, New Jersey. Jack stared at the evidence before his eyes. There it was. Two months ago, Kelly had been arrested for a robbery simi- lar to the one at Pyle’s and had taken a plea of guilty. Already he had served six weeks of his term. Jack went to his office and locked him- self in his private room. He lighted his pipe, sat down at his desk, and gave himself over to deep thought. He delved into all angles of the problem, weighing this and that, racking his mind for another crook who would fit Trent’s de- scription. . “By George!” he exclaimed to himself. “‘T wonder—I wonder—if some bird didn’t get himself up to resemble Kelly, and _ dress. CHANCE. 655 adopt some of his characteristics purpose- ly!” That was worth considering. After two hours, Jack rose, shook him- self. The set of his lips indicated that he had formed a plan of action. 3 His first move was to make his way to the Western Union office, where he filed a number of messages. Returning to the of- fice, he called in one of his best operatives to whom he gave certain instructions. Then he told his partner: “ I’m off now. If any- body inquires for me, say that I am in Chicago, but that you don’t know my ad- May be gone a week—or a month. I can’t be sure.”’ The other nodded. Jack had done this thing before. And always he had brought home the bacon. Jack went to his apartment in West Sixty-Seventh Street, but he did not leave town that day. Instead he tarried untii replies to his various messages had been delivered to him at home, as he had direct- ed. The first two gave him unlimited satis- faction and he chuckled as he read them. Finally the one for which he waited with the most impatience arrived and Jack whooped with joy. VIL. Five days later, at two o’clock in the morning, Jack Tempest lay under the drooping branches of a bridal wreath bush at the edge of the Pyle side lawn. He had lain there now for four nights—ten o’clock to dawn. He was growing weary of what appeared to be a useless vigil. That is why he started so violently when, of a sudden, he perceived a shadowy figure moving with absolute quietness, in the vi- cinity of the tennis courts at the rear of the great house. “Aha!” Jack breathed. ‘“ At last!” He wormed noiselessly across the springy lawn, the better to observe the activities of the other person. The latter made his way to a pile of clay which had been deposited hard by the tennis courts and evidently was designed for surface material. Pausing, as if to listen, the man stooped and began to burrow in the clay pile. Jack watched tensely. Presently the digger bent lower, then Gomichbooks (E@)