Argosy, Vol. 120, No. 1 — page 93: what you’re looking at

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

ROPE’S LENGTH. He walked the room with nervous, un- even paces. Once he paused to look at his money, which he, rewrapped in the fishing net and moved to another corner of the room. Carefully he went over the minutest details of his life from his first appearance in Carisford. He had never been suspected; he had even failed on one occasion to make the police believe that he was Carl- stach. “‘ By God! ” he whispered hoarsely, strik- ing the table with the side of his clenched hand, “ I am safe! ” The words were hardly out of his mouth when Dugan, followed by two officers in uniform, entered the room. All the men had guns. Dugan’s, especially, was notice- able. ““ Hands up, Sibert.” Caristach’s hand went up. ‘“‘ What—what’s the meaning of this, officer? ” | “You're arrested for the murder of Her- man Carlstach on the night of February eleventh. We've got the goods on you, Sibert, and you’d as well come clean and deliver the swag.”’ “ The—murder of—Carlstach? ” “ Sure. But I can’t tell anything about it that you don’t already know.” He slipped the handcuffs on Carlstach’s wrists and turned to the officers: “ Well, boys, turn over the place. It’s hidden ‘somewhere here.” The boys carried out instructions.. They ripped the mattresses, searched the stove, tore down the book racks, pulled out drawers, pried into cans, coffee pots and flour sacks; and pried off the ceiling in places, looking for the cached money. Twice they moved the fishing net to pry up the planks underneath. Meantime Dugan’s tongue was never still. “ You’d as well to come across, Sibert; it might go easier with you. We know all about it. Carlstach was getting away with the loot and was going to get a freight out of Sansford. Not being a riverman, he hired you to row him across. You guessed what he had in the shirt box—it was a shirt box, wasn’t it? ” “YT don’t know what you're talking about,” said Carlstach. 83 “You don’t? Well, it was a shirt box, and you kiled Carlstach for the money! — He wasn’t drowned—he was clubbed to death, weighted down, and thrown in the river. You were seen placing two boats there the evening before, and three men will swear that you rowed in that morning at two thirty. And the tracks down on the river bank are your tracks!” “In my theory on the cause of crime,” wheezed the prisoner, “‘ I—” “Cut out the nut talk,” growled Dugan. “You didn’t follow Carlstach and that other bank fellow on the afternoon Carl- stach made his get a way, either, did you? Of course not. But the other teller got a glimpse of you turning aside into a depart- ment store. You heard Carlstach joking about the money in the box, and you guessed it wasn’t all a joke. What’s your theory about that? ”’, “IT don’t understaid, officer.” “ All right; come on.” The prisoner held back and signified his wish to take something with him. “A fishing net? What you want with that? ” “I’m going to prove my innocence, and I want this net repaired. It will save me an extra trip to town.” “Poor nut!” commiserated Dugan. ‘You may die in the bughouse or you may go by the way of T.B., as your coughing seems to promise. But it’s my opinoin that you'll die-with a rope around your neck.” Nevertheless Dugan was human, and the prisoner was permitted to take his net. It would be taken from him at the jail. As they approached the Hibernian Na- tional Bank the prisoner asked to be taken in to see the president. He had an im- portant revelation to make. Carlstach was no fool, and since his arrest his mind had been preternaturally busy. As the case stood, the evidence that he had done murder was conclusive. It takes no wise man to select the lesser of two evils. They went directly to the office of the president. y ‘“ Mr. President,’” said Dugan, “TI have here the gay bird that flopped Carlstach: We’ve got enough proof on him ‘to hang him a dozen times over, but he’s cached the (A CO NOO S C@