Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 25, 1924 — page 116: what you’re looking at

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

106 first. You double-crossed me, you fortune- huntin’ liar!” 3 McCandless gently said: “ May I ask who it was that introduced me as a college man?” “I did, God forgive me. But Ill wash that sin off me soul.” Finnerty started for the door. “Do you propose to call on my fiancée?”’ “All of that, me bucko, and more bhe- sides.”’ “Tl go along, if I may.” So Finnerty and McCandless hurried to the camp office, where a lighted lamp indi- cated that the widow had not as yet retired to her sleeping quarters. “Mrs. Maloney,” said Finnerty, “ it’s to warn you against this fellow that I’ve come. He’s not a college man, but a bum.” The widow sighed. “ I know that he isn’t a college man. Bertram told me. His no- bility of character would not permit him to live a lie. He lost his position as salesman because of the hard times in St. Paul.” Finnerty winced. “Did the laddy buck’s nobility of char- acter compel him to tell you that he came to me and wanted to hire himself out as a woman killer, so he could persuade you to marry me?” “Marry youe”’ Finnerty blushed. ““ Well—er—yes.” “ The very idea!” McCandless laughed’ “T’m sorry, Alice,” he said, “ but it was only to spare your feelings that I refrained from stating that this fellow wanted to hire me to win you for him. Naturally, I re- fused to listen to the base proposition.” Finnerty gasped. “ Them clothes that you’re wearin’ this minute?” he demanded. “ Did I buy them for you or did I not?” “You did not. I bought and paid for them myself and I have a receipt to prove LBs Too late, Finnerty realized that he should have paid for the clothes and taken the re- ceipt himself, instead of handing the money over to McCandless. “You believe me, don’t you, Alice?” the city man asked. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “Of course I do.” To Finnerty she said: ‘““T ought to order you out of my camp, but I won’t. I did you an injustice and caused the whole camp to laugh at you. But, please leave us now.” Finnerty stumbled back to the bunk house and Jay in wait for his betrayer. Soon the latter appeared. The other occupants were all asleep. “Hand me back the money for them clothes or I'll wallop you,” said Finnerty. “Surely,” replied McCandless, and gave him a roll of bills. ‘ Sorry I had to lie about the loan you were good enough to let me have,” he whispered with a cautious glance to make sure he was not overheard. “But you know how it is. You lied your- self when you thought it would get you something.” Wide awake in his bunk, Finnerty took stock of the situation. Truly, it was des- perate. The widow might marry the hound at any time. Doubtless the fellow would try to hurry the ceremony. Something must be done to prevent it. But what? In vain did Finnerty rack his none too agile brains. He gave it up for the time being and went to sleep. Next morning a notice on the cook shack door informed the men that Mr. McCand- less was the new timekeeper. That gave Finnerty an idea. Tommy Dove, who had lost his easy job to the newcomer, might be able to think of some feasible plan of revenge. Finnerty went to Tommy and told him the whole story of his dealings with the traitor. Tommy sat in silent contemplation for a long time, then: “Those man-wanted notices seem to make considerable impression on the boss, don’t they?” “She’s always hoping to earn a reward by turning a wanted man over to the po- lice.” “She gets quite a lot of them, doesn’t she?” “ Heaps.” “T wonder—let’s see, now—supposing she received one that described a fellow something like this bird McCandless—” Tommy suddenly slapped his hand down on COMMICLOOKS (E@)