Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 6, 1923 — page 162: what you’re looking at

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

944 tips; and at sight of the gathering crowd a policeman sauntered up. ‘“ What the divvle will it be?” queried a railroad yardman on his way to work, ask- ing of the nearest ear. ‘“ Movie outfit, I guess; been out in the desert shootin’ a film for a hold-up,” was the answer. ‘‘ Yuh can seen the grease paint on that feller’s face, and the stuff that’s made to look like blood—never stopped to wash it off. And look at the skirt: ain’t she a peach—dirt and all?” The hatless driver of the dusty car was clambering out stiffly, dragging a_half- filled gunny sack after him. A nearer view showed that his ‘‘ make-up ” was faultless; almost corpse like. One of the bystanders whispered to an- other: “ By George, if that isn’t blood on his face and in his hair, I’ll eat my hat! Why, look; you can see the cut and the swelling! Them movie stunters don’t stop at nothing, do they?” By this time the chauffeur was helping the young woman out of the car, and it was noticed that he stood with one foot on the half-filled gunny sack while he did it. As the sauntering policeman, accepting the moving picture explanation of the scene as the true one, was moving away, the young man who had failed to remove his “‘ make- up ” beckoned to him. ‘* Officer, can you drive a car?” he asked quite casually. ‘And if I can—what then?” demanded the majesty of the law. ‘‘ T was going to say that you might drive this car around to headquarters and have these three birds in the tonneau locked up for safekeeping.” ‘Say; ain’t you movie actors?”’ The young man shook his head. “ Only in the sense that we’ve been on the move the better part of the night—out across the Red Desert and back.” Shouldering his way through the throng that was now blocking the sidewalk, the big policeman looked in upon the tonneau lading. ‘“ Hell’s bells!”’ he said; “‘ so that’s why they ain’t sittin’ on th’ seat! Who done th’ job o’ hog-tyin’?” ‘“T did,” replied the chief actor modest- lv; then, apologizing for the manner: * It’s ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. not a very workmanlike job, I’ll admit. I had nothing but substitutes for handcuffs and shackles, and I had to make up in quantity what the stuff lacked in quality. If you'll take these men to headquarters and have them doctored up and jailed, I'll appear a little later and make the charge against them.” While he was speaking, the smallish man whose name on the hotel register was Sim- mons, had wriggled up to lay a hand on the chief actor’s shoulder. ‘Oh, no; you don’t make any such grand stand play as that, Mr. James Baxter Bar- rett,” he said quietly. ‘“ I’m on to you with both feet, this time. You are arrested for the theft of two hundred thousand dollars from your own bank. And we’re going to make your wife—if she is your wife—an accessory after the fact. You may as well come clean. What have you done with that money?” Before the accused one could reply, an elderly man, grizzled, gray, and with a granite like face and the underslung jaw of a ring fighter, had come through the re- volving doors to push his way to the curb. At sight of him, the young woman, poised on the running board of the automobile, leaped into his arms with a cry of ‘* Daddy!” Barrett was grinning into the face of the smallish man, and if the grin could have been caught on a motion picture film it would have made his fortune. ‘You are just a few hours too late, Mr. Simmons,” he countered. “If you had ar- rested me last night when you came to my room and let me tangle you up on the geo- graphy of Chattanooga, you would have stood a good chance of fingering the big reward. I hadn’t any alibi then, but I have one now.” ‘* Where is it?” was the snappy demand. ‘ Right here,” Barrett returned, picking up the dusty gunny sack. ‘‘ One hundred and ninety-nine thousand five hundred of them, in fact. You see, Mrs. Barrett and I had the clew — the real clew — and we were obliged to pull off the little theatrical stunt on you to keep you from jailing me before we could get action. ‘‘ Now, good people,” he went on, plead- 9A COMicloOo® (©