Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 123, No. 4 — page 70: what you’re looking at

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

576 maging through a_ tool-box—and more of them and still more of them, now mut- tering to himself, now addressing an ex- planatory word or two to the lady, invisible from the doorway, who was his wife. en, with pipe in mouth and a dozen keys in hand, he scuffed out again. “T ain’t certain, Mr. Henning,” he said, languidly, as he waited for the elevator to descend. ‘‘ We had a lot of odds and ends of keys around here when the building was finished, you know, and some of ’em fit some places and some fit other places. “No, I ain’t certain, but it seems to me that one o’ these keys does fit in that lock of yours. Fifth, boy!” He rested against the wall of the car and smiled reassurance at Thomas. Young Mr. Henning sought to smile back. It was quite an effort. And here they were at the good old fifth floor again, with the knight in armor in the center of the hall. The superintendent stopped abruptly. “Well, wotto you know!” he chuckled. ‘What 1 they get up next? Friend of yours, Mr. Henning?” ‘What? Yes, of course!” “Wotta you think of that?” the superin- tendent muttered, and pushed back his cap to scratch his head. ‘‘ A whole tin suit like these old guys you see pictures of that used to—=” “That’s it!” Thomas said feverishly. “ Will you try those keys, please—or just leave them with me. That’ s better. I don’t want to take your time. You let me have them and get back to work!” ‘This time o’ night?” smiled the superin- tendent. ‘I don’t do no work this time o’ night. Now—lemme see! Was it that dinky little brass one or this nickel key? Seems to me it was the brass one. Yep, it —no, it ain’t, either!”” he announced, after a moment of struggle. ‘“ That’s funny. I thought sure it was the brass one. Well, how about this nickel affair?” He tried it. Nicely, as if it had been made for Thomas’s apartment, the thing slid in and the latch clicked. The superin- tendent pushed the door open and extended the key to Thomas. “There!” he said triumphantly. ‘ Now, ——_> - —_ ¥ ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. you better keep this one, too, Mr. Henning. You're the only one’s got any use for it, and I don’t want the responsibility of an extra key, y’ know, in case of burglars or the like o’ that.” He dropped the key into Thomas’s rather cold palm and scuffed away. . ‘* Er — well — thanks — say!” Thomas managed. “ Just wait a minute!” ce Yeh?” “You might leave the rest of those keys here, if you will. I think—er—my friend across there, Mr. Noble, may find one he ‘can use. Just leave them and J7ll let him experiment when he comes. He said some- thing— | ‘‘ Oh, that’s all been fixed!” the superin- tendent assured him. 9 What?” ‘Yep! Y’see, Mr. Noble lost his extra key, Mr. Henning; so I’m having two more extwas made for him—see? The locksmith said he’d have ’em here by ten in the morn- ing, dead sure. Will you tell Mr. Noble?” “Yes, I’ll—tell him!” Thomas faltered. The superintendent continued his jour- ney toward the elevator. He reached the door and, waiting, looked back. ““ You'd better come in here, Mary!” Thomas said softly. ‘“‘ Into—your flat?’’ hissed the bride. “For a minute, anyway, yntil he gets out of sight!” Thomas pleaded. ‘“ He’s wondering now why we're -still standing here, and the last thimg in the world that you want to do just now is to attract atten- tion!” He urged the armor gently. The armor creaked into action, bringing an admiring chuckle from the superintendent. “Don’t close that door!” Mary cried, anenily. “ Mary, I'm nét exactly luring you in here, you know!” said young Mr. Henning. “I’m trying to help you—” “Yes, and if you hadn’t tried to help me in the first place, I—I’d never be here now!”’ Mrs. Emerson cried bitterly. ‘ Why on earth did you bring that beastly man up with you? Why didn’t you get his keys and—and—” Her words died out. Faintly, from far away, yet coming distinctly through the . 4A ocalat KGa LSOOLE: A THE OHIO SIA a