Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 146 No. 4 — page 167: what you’re looking at

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

when he went to the store. It surprised him to find that the place was still open, and what was more, it was crowded. There were at least a dozen people there. They were grouped in front of the counter. They all stopped talking and turned when Trus- com entered. “Say,” exclaimed the storekeeper, “ weren’t you up to Lorimer’s place last night?” Truscom shook his head. “ Didn’t go near it.” “But you said you was going. Didn’t you say you was going to get damages out of him for the damage his cow done?” “Changed my mind. There ain’t no law against that, is there?”’ “ No—but I reckon you'll want to kick yourself for all the rest of your days that you didn’t go as you said you was going to.” Fred Truscom’s eyes shifted furtively from face to face. It puzzled him to see that they were all regarding him with amusement rather than suspicion. “What is it you're getting at?” he de- manded. “Old Lorimer’s dead.” Truscom simulated as best he could a look of surprise. “Too bad,” he mumbled. “ But I don’t see what I’ve got to be so upset about. I won't get paid for that fence and all that, but—” “You know that old Lorimer wrote songs?” “T’ve heard he did,” said Truscom cau- tiously. ** Ever hear of ‘ Gal o’ Mine ’?” a“ Sure.”’ “ He wrote it.” Truscom’s jaw sagged; his yellow fang protruded. “ He wrote that?” _ “Wrote the words and the music. It’s been selling like hot cakes all over. He died worth more’n a hundred thousand dol- lar +h and saexvs more to come.” HIS FOR A SONG. “What's the 1e. ‘ What are you all gawping at?” “ Well, it’s like this,” explained th keeper. c If you’d gone up, you was going to last night, you’¢ worth a pile of money. . old man had been dead twelve or hours when they found him this 1orning. So I guess he was gone by the t time yc 4 said you was to be there. You shouldn’t have changed—” a “ But how would I have got =, demanded Truscom. ‘* Because you’d have been the first os discover his body. He must have felt he was getting near the end. He wrote his will — just before he died. Left every cent to the - one who found him. Only condition is that he’s to be buried next his wife. That’s all, If you’d gone up there, you'd have was into all his money. As it is, it’s the little Clara who'll get it. She went up wid. ; some new laid eggs this morning. She found the old man sitting in his chair, His i will was right there on his knee.” + “On his knee,” repeated Truscom in ie 4 pe tye P: dey whisper. a: “Yes. They've been telegraphing . phoning all day, but there ain’t no one to ¥ claim his money. Clara ’ll get it, all ri sp ‘“ But you say the will was on his kn ‘“ That’s what I’m telling you. I’ve seen | it. It was written on that song he made such a hit with.” Fred Truscom swayed slightly. | stared vacantly. Then his face distor ted do with venom as he saw the re 7 ee” — oo Sod ld that he had been within a few i that strange will? What wou at laughter be if they could ee pledged his chance of a fortune dollars and ninety-eight cents. an oath—swung round, and lt the store.