Argosy, Vol. 120, No. 1 — page 85: what you’re looking at

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

~ ROPE’S LENGTH. could have left with the price of a king’s ransom—as kings go nowadays—in his yel- low travéling bag. His only difficulty was in escaping undetected and living forever after on the fruits of his cleverness. No one kneW better than Carlstach that the game of outwitting justice was as difficult _as it was ancient. He indulged in-no de- lusions on the stupidity of the police, and what with telegraphs, wireless, extradition treaties, and the added element of chance, the points were nine to one in favor of the law. Carlstach had-a new move. It would take time and caution and infinite patience —two, or three, or maybe five years. He was in no hurry. If one’s livelihood de- pends on grafting trifling sums, he may sometimes have to act on immature plans, or even without plans. Carlstach’s living, however, was assured by his salary, and the stake against which he was playing his lib- erty was not trifling. He could afford | to wait. 4 Nature had been kind in fitting him to his part. Carisford—or such part of Caris- ford’s hundred thousand population as knew him—knew him to be a “nice, but rather unsocial fellow, though a German.” What they did not know was that in pis native village of Wurtenheim, Saxony, he was con- sidered a prodigy in acting parts. How- ever, in business as well as in cards, a good hand loses its value if shown in the wrong place in the game, and so in Carisford his talent was never known. One afternoon he stepped out of his cage to the cigar and drink stand in the foyer of the building. The white aproned at- tendant mixed him a drink, saying casually: ‘“‘Saw your double in here last night, Carlstach. Thought it was you when he first came in.” “ Did? suppose, Jake?” “No,” said Jake, “but he looked like he needed it. Seedy, nutty kind of fellow —lives down on the river. Said he. didn’t know you. He had to tell all about his business—wWriting some- kind of a book. After he talked two minutes I saw that he didn’t look so much like you, after all.” _ “ What did he—how did he look?” Didn’t shake you for a loan, I- “Tall fellow, nearly your. height, thinner, I’d say. Baggy clothes and dirty. When I told him there’s a bank teller here looks like him, he lighted up and asked a hundred questions. Said he was coming round to see you.” Carlstach treated the incident with levity. “Better watch him, Jake,” he laughed. ““T warn you now that I won't stand for his debts through any mistake in identity.” Thus was John Sibert introduced to Car- isford and the world. Thereafter at irreg- ular intervals Carlstach heard of him from varidus sources. His remarkable resem- blance. to the teller was noted by everyone, especially on first sight. After he had talked awhile, every one averred, the re- semblance was not so marked. To all his new acquaintances he told the same story, which inevitably found its way back to Carlstach. Still the paying teller refused to take his double seriously. “Look out,” he would laugh, in reply to these stories, “‘ and don’t let him touch you up. I'll not pay his debts.” The Hibernian National Bank had few clients down the river: the scattered deni- zens of that section, who were mostly fish- ermen and lumber jacks, yhad other uses for their money. But it had a few, and they were led to tell more about the mys- terious Sibert. From their accounts he lived in a houseboat and was writing a book on ‘“The Psychology of Crime.” Sometimes he would write all night; sometimes, for days and nights dt a time. Again he would disappear for days and hunt up material _ for his work. “Td like to see him,” said Carlstach, becomjng interested. “ He’d like to see you too—TI heard him say so. But he doesn’t like to be bothered with other people much. He’s an unsocial crank till he gets started on some of his cranky ideas.” The following week Carlstach’s wishes were almost fulfilled. Almost. Sibert called to see him at the bank, but it hap- pened that the teller was out. The visitor paused a minute and glanced into the office of the president. “Hullo! Not back already?” said the 75 but ~ COMicboo S C@