The Argosy, March 1907 — page 26: what you’re looking at

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

days. “manifest consternation. riving at Berkely, you will inquire at McCann’s saloon for .a miner named Jim Spear, to whom, having made your- self known as a member of the society, you will transmit my orders.” “And what are your orders?” “That Gardiner Davis shall be safely put out of the way within the next ten Tell Spear, further, that the case is an imperative one, and that I will tol- erate no excuses. The price will be five thousand dollars.” CHAPERR rx. A NARROW ESCAPE. Ar Billy McCann’s Red Onion Saloon, in Berkely, there appeared on the follow- ing day a young man bearing the unmis- takable imprint of New York in manners and attire. He was as much out of place ‘in that squalid barroom with its dingy little fixtures and its groups of rough- garbed miners as would have been the Flatiron Building itself, and his advent created almost as much excitement. Well-dressed strangers were not utter- ly unknown at Berkely, and Burns might have escaped with no more than passing comment had he not shown so plainly that he was there for a purpose. He fidgeted uneasily about, stole fur- tive glances at every man in the room, and ordered whisky only to empty his glass in the cuspidor after a single sip —a proceeding which required no excuse, indeed, had it not been that he imme- diately repeated the program. Finally, when he had succeeded in attracting to himself the attention of the entire assemblage, he corraled the bar- tender in one corner and made some whispered inquiries with the air of a conspirator.. But the bartender scorned subterfuge. ‘Do I know Jim Spear?” he bawled out in stentorian accents,~to. George’s “ Why, cert’nly. That’s him settin’ at the fur table. “Jim,” calling lustily to the man in question, a tall, gangling individual with an ill-favored countenance and a cast in one eye, “it’s you that Cha’ncy Depew, here, has been tryin’ to flag all this time. Better come forward and see what it is he wants.” THE ARGOSY. The fellow rose slowly at the sum- mons and slouched forward, meanwhile eying George with malevolent suspicion. ‘Ah, Mr. Spear,” began young Burns, striving to appear at ease but failing lamentably in the attempt, “I am just over from Pittsburgh, and I was told to look you up by a friend of yours I met there. His name was Jack—Jack ‘: He glanced toward the other as though expecting him to help out. But the suspicion in Spear’s glance only deepened. “T don’t know nobody in Pittsburgh named Jack,” he growled. f Then the emissary suddenly remem- bered his instructions. He raised his left hand and scratched the right side of his head, as if making an effort to recall the forgotten name. Instantly the miner’s face cleared. ‘Might it be Jack Potts that you was thinkin’ of ?”’ he questioned sharply. ‘Certainly,’ with intense relief. “That was it—Jack Potts. H6éw stupid of me to forget. He sent a message, and if you'll step outside where we can be alone I’ll try to give it to you.” The fellow followed him docilely enough from the place, but when they had walked a hundred yards or so up the road he turned suddenly upon George with an expression of supreme disgust. ‘Well, you cert’nly did all you could. ” to give the snap away,” he exclaimed. ‘And now,” distrust showing again in his glance, “ who be you, and what did you mean by them words down in the saloon?”’ George had intended to assumé rather a high and mighty tone with these ruf- fians who were under his father’s orders, but face to face with one of the scowl- ing band up here in the lonely moun- tains, and taken sharply to task, he deemed it wiser to put his dignity in his pocket. Almost pleadingly, therefore, he ex- plained who he was, and the mission | which had brought him into the wilds. Gradually, as he presented convincing proofs of his identity, Spear’s doubts vanished, and when he finally made known the name of their prospective vic- tim his surly companion even conde- scended to show satisfaction. . = comicbooks.com — eRe |