Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine, Vol. 107 No. 3 — page 83: what you’re looking at

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

ALIAS THE ANGLEWORM. foolish, last night. But to-day, well, Mr. Bugbee, you can git some lunch ready for Mike Burns, whenever you want to. He’s in jail.” “You got me wrong on: that kilter, all the way,” chuckled Bugbee. ‘“ When I called this Alias the Angleworm the ‘ big smoke ’ this morning, he was scared plumb to death. Give me a Aull box of them see- gars not to mention his real name—and I don’t even know it. Smoke?” He held one over the desk and Marshal Tom forgave and forgot after the first puff. As a poker player Mr. Bugbee was a con- noisseur of good tobacco. Norman Baldwin, his sister, and Jimmy were sitting in the office near the world’s best literature when Jimmy - mentioned the one mysterious incident as yet unsolved since he had come to Coalport. He spoke of the shoes. ‘What shoes?” asked Vivian. He told her, and Norman looked very thoughtful during the recital. “It couldn’t have been Burns,” said the returned brother, who had been in Peru with an engineering project harnessing a waterfall for some four months. ‘“No,” said Jimmy, “it wasn’t Burns, because he was in the bank, and there isn’t any other niember of their gang in Coal- port. But, who else in town—”’ Vivian suddenly grew hysterical. - Norman rushed for water, and, while he was getting it, Alias the Angleworm found himself “‘ hooked again ” in trying to sup- port the young lady, who seemed fairly ob- sessed by the shoes and what they signified. Try as he would to get back to selling typewriters, Jimmy simply couldn’t until Vivian’s streaming eyes were filled with laughter instead of tears, and by the time Norman gave her a drink of water, she calmed enough to solve the sole remaining ~ mystery. | “Yes, they’re a man’s shoes, but a wom- an wears them. That old Sicilian miser that was turning the crank on that horrid organ last night—don’t you remember, I told you she was the janitress of this build- ing? She is always snooping around!”’ (The 425 ‘“‘T wish to announce,” replied Jimmy, “‘that I have just acquired another alias. I am now King Robert—in more parts than I thought I had last night when I re- fused to look at myself wearihg my dagger in the wrong place. Being what I now am, I shall refuse to bite ¢hat old rooster!”’ Vivian went off into another gale of laughter so infectious that Jimmy joined. But Norman still looked thoughtful. “It was mighty good of you to stick by a chap’s sister, when you thought her brother was a rotter.”’ “IT had to,” said Jimmy. “I had no choice. You see, my name isn’t James Stuart; and I’m really an angleworm, be- cause my father is the man that manu- factures the typewriter that I don’t sell in Coalport; and he owns the bank in Pitts- burgh to which I don’t introduce strangers wearing your name any more; and he said I must worm this out from every angle— no matter where it led. The shoes stood in that corner of the room—you can‘ see the angle under the world’s best literature.” ‘That’s all nonsense, you know,” said Norman, warmly. ‘ See here—don’t mini- mize yourself. you are.” “You haven’t heard it all. My father also puts the soot in the Coalport air that Tom Tredway rubs in his hat, by chasing me around the streets so fast he sets up a.. whirlwind that brings it all down on his de- voted head.” | Norman grinned, threw up his hands, and declared: “ Jimmy, you're incorrigible.” “So father tells me, and I wish you’d tell me something. You own those books in the corner. Is there anything in them that tells anything authentic about how a chap can get rid of a fellow who’s brother to the sister that the chap likes? I’ve been trying to do that all morning with you. “If you admire me for being such a de- voted little angleworm, why don’t you rush out and ask the ones under Mr. Bugbee’s phaeton if I’m what I seem to be, or if I’m merely the echo of that necktie I wore yes- terday? I want to tell your sister my real name. She thinks I’m merely—well—what I know I am when I look at her!” Emu). ee A ~ oo ee Pal enw We all like you better as (C(O) NOO S (C(O) mM