Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine, Vol. 107 No. 3 — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

_~ 418 ‘““Do you always sell them by pulling it off?” Jimmy said he was bound by no fixed rules in making sales. Marshal Tom thanked him, gravely, and then said: ‘“ Now, Viv, if you don’t mind?” ‘‘ I’m entirely at your service, Mr. Tred- way.” “Viv, I’ve knowed you sence you was a little girl, but I’m Marshal Tredway, right now,” “TI understand.” She was walking with her hand on Jimmy’s right and her other hand tucked beneath one of the police force of Coalport. ‘Who was you talking to down-town this afternoon before Mr. Stuart come to your office, between four and five o’clock?”’ “Why, with Mr. Burns, down at the First National Bank.” ‘“Do you mind telling me what about, Viv?” “Not in the least, Marshal Tom. He was out to our house night before last, calling on me. He knows Norman rather well, you know. And he asked me the other night how Norman was getting on. I told him I hadn’t heard from him for some time. He told me when I did to remember him to Norman. “To-day, when I was going past the bank, he saw me and asked me again. I went in and told him I hadn’t heard any- thing from Norman, yet. Then, he asked if Norman was sick and why he didn’t write. 1 told him I might hear any mail and would be sure to give him Norman’s message, as well as his address, when I next heard.” ‘And then you went back to the office?” ‘Yes. And I was in there a little time, and in came Mr. Stuart and began dic- tating. And then in came the mail-man and left a letter from Norman—but, I haven’t seen Mr. Burns since.” “Thank you, Viv, that’s all. I can’t make head or tail of this, at all. I guess Mr. Bugbee has handed me all the bees in his name. My head feels like it, anyway. Now, Viv, would you mind standing just acrost the street from the cigar-store, whilst Mr. Stuart and I go inside for a minit? We won't be long.” ARGOSY AND RAILROAD MAN’S MAGAZINE. “Can’t I go with you? I don’t like to stand outside.” - “Viv, I think as much of you as I do of my own daughter. If it was her, I'd say: ‘No!’ to your first question and ask her to please do exactly what her daddy wanted her to do.” ‘““T’ll stand wherever you say, Marshal Tom.” ‘““Qne moment,” said Jimmy. ‘“ Marshal, if this has anything to do with me, I’m ready to waive any rights I have, take the third degree, or go anywhere you say, rather than have Miss Baldwin annoyed.” Marshal Tom’s jaw clamped. ‘‘ We'll go to the cigar-store, Mr. Stuart, and we'll be back as quick as we can. But, I’m much obliged to you for your offer.” Circe seemed endowed with a new but no less gripping beauty to her Ulysses-by- - compulsion who followed Marshal Tredway across the street. No words! Life was made before language. _ Marshal Tom raised his hand to give the open-sesame to the open session in the back room. The front of the store was dark. A partition of thin wood ran to the ceiling. As he did so, Jimmy knew that the hour had come to carry out his resglution to up- hold a young man, no matter what trans- pired when they met, and treat him as if he had never wabbled in hés orbit any more than the north star had really “ teetered,”’ when Jimmy had put up his hands on Mrs. Baldwin’s porch. His half-expectation that Norman, after writing Vivian, might come brazenly back to his mother’s home, had not borne fruit. Norman hadn’t come. The reason he hadn’t was because Mr. Bugbee, purveyor-extra- ordinary to the poker-game, had found “some one with more golden fleece upon which to experiment in procuring “ oat money ” than the guest assigned Room No. 36 at the Mansion House. Mr. Bugbee was, even now, engaged in raising oat money, and “ raising ’’ a young man giving the name of Norman Bald- win, at one and the same time. Those voices came clearly through that thin par- tition in the midst of the universal hush of ~ NOO > S (C(O) (C(O) mM