Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 97: what you’re looking at

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

THE FLAT TIRE. next week or ten days before he invited me out with him. And I was all swelled up on myself to see how my dope was work- ing on him. He began wearing his giddy ties to the office. Before the wonder of that wore off in he came out in a new spring suit of snappy smoke gray; and I noticed he was doing something to his hair, too—slicking it back like a cake eater. But the crowning moment was the day I heard him springing a nifty on Miss Cash. It wasn’t much of a nifty, but you could see that Dick meant it to be funny and thought it was funny, and, enjoyed telling it so that they both had to laugh. I drew a big, deep breath and fairly burst with pride. “Look at that!” I told myself. “TI did that!”’ We made up a party of four to visit the Silver Slipper, with Carlyle Manning and Miss Cash included. There were taxis and soft drinks and supper afterward and all the trimmings. If Dick wasn’t the life of the party, at least he contributed a few heartbeats. He sprang some new nifties; they were pretty sad; and he danced every chance he got, with Miss Cash as much as he did with me. It made me a little thoughtful. ‘“ Watch your step, Corabel,” I told myself when I saw him smiling into her face and whisper- ing something foolish. “It’s a good job to wake up a dead one, but it’s something else again to see another girl get away with your handiwork!” Carlyle Manning must have seen me watching them. “What d’you think of heredity now, Cora?” he whispered. ‘“ The boy is certain- ly stepping out! They say his father was a bad actor with the gals.” “You certainly do hate a little competi- tion!” I told him. “Tl bet you were scared when they opened old King Tut’s tomb.” Manning grinned. “ There was a fellow named Frankenstein,” he said. ‘ He found out how to put life into a kind of Coney Island giant. But when his old tin monster went out and painted the town red, it got his goat something awful!” 247 I could afford to laugh at that then. I wasn’t afraid for Dick. iii. THE office mystery began the very next morning. I could tell there was something wrong as soon as I saw Mr. Bowman’s face when he sent for me to take his letters. And Roche, the office manager, had a pasty, scared look and jumped whenever anybody spoke to him. In the middle of Mr. Bowman’s dictation a card came in and he ordered the visitor sent in and told me I could go, a very unusual thing for him. As I went out I passed the stranger going in, a red faced, heavy set man with shrewd little eyes and. a barber’s smile. He might have been ’*most anything judging by his exterior, but his feet wrote “ Plainclothes cop” all over him, or I’m no judge of shoes. A good many of us knew that Mr. Bow- man was keeping some very valuable papers locked in the safe... The firm was assisting the.government in an investigation of anti- trust law violations. Mr. Bowman had collected a lot of evidence, ready to be used in the fall. It was all subrosa and unofficial and confidential, but a lot of people in the office had a hunch that something was go- ing on and every time a code telegram was sent or a queer looking visitor dropped in a little buzz of curiosity went around. Evidently certain people of importance were not sitting pretty while Mr. Bowman had that information locked up, ready to turn over to the district attorney. They stood to lose a lot of: money and maybe go to jail. ; The stranger stayed. in the boss’s office and various people were sent for during the day. Dick Cryder was one and Carlyle Manning another. They all came out look- mg serious and didn’t talk about it. I was glad when they sent for me because I hate - to be left out of secrets. Mr. Bowman said: “Do you mind an- | swering a few questions, Miss Allen? Per- haps you can help us a great deal—”’ I suppose I looked funny, because he ex- plained right away: “ An attempt was made CORAICLOOO® ‘@) S (©