Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 124: what you’re looking at

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

596 from the foot up. But it was evident that the bed was occupied, and that Mr. Mum- phy’s overcoat was spread over the occu- pant’s feet and legs. A cold reek of stale Cigar smoke and spirits was in the clerk’s nose. He descended cautiously from the chair. “It's all right,” he said to the woman. “Let him sleep it off.” It was one o’clock when Jeff came to the surface a second time. He felt perfectly comfortable while he lay still, but decidedly queer when he moved his head. For a mo- ment he was at a loss to know where he was, mystified by the unfamiliar appear- ance of the dimly disclosed surroundings— but only for a moment. The incidents of the afternoon and evening with Mr. Mum- phy came to him, confusedly at first, but presently in their proper sequence. He re- membered the trip into the country, the agreement, and his contribution of sixty dollars, instead of one hundred, toward the preliminary expenses. He was safe. His future was assured. He was a great man. Dora would be dazzled by him. Those friends of hers of whom he so strongly dis- approved yet stood in awe, they, too, would be dazzled, they in their turn would be awed, His vest was still on him, though his coat was hanging on the foot of the bed. He produced his watch and held it before his eyes. One o’clock! He must have had a skinful! He supposed that Mr. Mum- phy had arisen and gone forth Jong ago, to breakfast and perhaps to order the stage costume for the Tall Timber Terror. Ob- serving the bottle and glass beside him, he helped himself to the last of the whisky. Presently he sat up; and, a little later, he ventured from the bed to the nearest win- dow and shot the blind all the way up. A gray, flickering light came in to him from myriads of descending snowflakes. He pushed up the sash and gulped the fresh, raw air into his mighty lungs. He was soon steady enough to bathe his head in cold water. But he found the lacing of his shoes a long and heart-breaking task. Now, for the first time, he noticed and recognized Mr. Mumphy’s overcoat on the bed. He looked around for his own overcoat, but ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. failed to see it. He became aware of the absence of Mumphy’s bag and suit case from the place near the foot of the bed which they had occupied last night. He looked everywhere, even under the bed (which was a painful proceeding), without finding them. A sickening, chilling, unde- fined suspicion struck him like a pailful of ice water, He sat down limply on the edge of the bed and drew his coat onto his lap and explored its pockets with fingers that fumbled as if they had been suddenly frost- nipped. Here was the wallet. Blessed re- lief! He hesitated for a moment—and then he opened it. Jeff pulled at the locked door. He pulled again. He yanked. He was wild with anger and fright. His last hundred gone! —his sixty gone! — his fur-lined coat and his fine job gone! With a mighty yank that would not be denied, he pulled the knob of the door clean off and, as a result of this feat of strength, crashed to the floor on the flat of his back with such force and welght as to shake the windows. But he was on his feet again when the clerk un- locked the door. * T’ve been robbed!” he cried. He pushed the clerk aside and fled. He found his wife at home. She lookea at him queerly, but he was far too des- perately perturbed to notice such a little thing as a look. He even failed to notice that she did not ask him where he had been all night. He sat down swearing and con- tinued to swear. He did not notice the pallor of her face nor the apprehension in her eyes. After handing out a string of ear- blisterers, he became more intelligible and cried, “‘ I’ve been robbed!—cleaned out!— skinned!—by the ” Dora said nothing; but a tentative glim- mer that may have been of relief lighted her beautiful eyes. ‘“ Robbed, d’ye hear me?” he continued, frantically. ‘“ Trimmed to my last dollar —an’ doped, too, I guess—by a who called himself Mumphy! ‘Took my money —every last damned dollar of it—an’ my overcoat, too—the dirty—”’ The light increased and Dora’s eyes. “When did all that happen?” she asked. steadied in lDOOLK