Argosy All-Story Weekly — "The Purple Limited" — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

590 free from a searching scrutiny and investi- gation until the missing train was found. Lark heard the distant whistle of an extra coming from the west. . He ran across the tracks to see Ragan arrive. The detective was covered with mud and snow. He shook his head at Lark’s questions, and went into the train despatcher’s office. His mspec- tion of Butte Tunnel and the mountain had proved fruitless. A track-walker, who accompanied Ragan as far as the station, told Lark that they had even dredged both banks of Broad River. “‘ Nothin’ went off there,’ he said. ‘“ Ties ain’t marked, anyway. Th’ river ain’t deep enough to cover a big express car an’ a - locomotive.” Lark began to wonder when the investi- gation would end. It was. three o’clock. Men dashed in and out of J. J. D.’s office. Some scattered over the yard. Others hur- ried to town. The place was like a hive disgorging indignant bees. _ The peppery traffic manager and the two eastern detectives appeared. They stood and talked with the chief, who had been questioning the men at the roundhouse. All three detectives walked away. The traffic manager’s private car was on a siding. He started for this, hesitated, and turned when J. J. D.-stepped out of the door, fol- lowed by the insurance adjuster. Lark edged close to,the group. A re- porter elbowed him to cue side against the station. He closed his fists, thought better of the action, and watched J. J.D. | The division superintendent looked wilted and uneasy. He commenced buttoning his coat. A newsboy ran across the tracks and thrust a paper under J. J. D.’s chin. “ Wuxtra—mis-ter? train-robbery!”’ J. }. D. glared at the boy. The traffic manager lifted one polished boot. The boy dodged into the crowd. Lark moved toward the supetintendent. He wanted to be on hand in case of trouble. One crook of J. J. D.’s little finger would call for a crushing punch somewhere among the in- solent manager’s white whiskers. Lark hated that man. War was on with a cutting nod when yy. J. D. exclaimed: All about th’ big: ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “IT don’t want this damn job! You knew me! I'll stick it out until we find that train. Then I'll quit!” “You're fired!” snarled the manager. “No! Il resign when the time comes.” ' Lark intercepted a flash from J. J. D.’s eyes. He moved closers and drew back his right arm. There was a world of loyalty in the action. J. J. D. shook his head. : Slowly Lark’s arm dropped to his side. The trafic manager and the insurance man walked stiffly to the private car. J. J. D. crammed his hands into his ‘overcoat pockets. He strode over the tracks. Lark, on watch, saw a detective dodge behind a freight car and disappear in the same direc- tion Darrah had gone. CHAPTER V. A GIRL NAMED NAN. ARK left the railroad yard and went home at five o’clock. He told Micky, the youthful caller, that he would be back at nine. Micky promised te tell the yard-master. The snow had stopped falling at New- house. A soft gray was in the lowering clouds. Slysh:and pools of water filled the streets. Lark trudgéd northward, crossed a trolley-track, and cut through a muddy field to his uncle’s house. | Uncle Add, as he had learned to call the old man since childhood, was an ex- soldier in the Union army, and a plu-plus- perfect engineer of the old school. Uncle Add’s income came from a pension which, although not large, was sufficient for the old man’s needs. He spent his days making models of loco- motives—cultivating @ garden, and talking with his cronies. He was over eighty. No one knew how much older he really was. Lark entered the kitchen of the tiny cottage and found Uncle Add peeling pota- toes by the stove. A large dog lay at the engineer’s feet. A newspaper was spread upon the kitchefi table. — ‘‘ Suppose you’ve been lookin’ for th’ robbers?”’ began Uncle Add. “ Been read- CO Comiclooolks