The Argosy for May — page 188: what you’re looking at

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

A COLD DAY FOR THE “Ah!” and the sergeant smiled still more. “ Looking for a position of trust in some bank or business house? ”’ Babbit mistook the significance of the smile and answered, “ Yes, sir.” ‘And thought you would practise on a few second-story windows till you could get at a safe easily?” “Wh—what?” “Oh, cut out this bluffing,” the off- cial growled impatiently. “If you want to tell now where your pals are, all right. If not, we'll get that out of you later.” “I don’t know where I got the coat. I’m not familiar enough with the city. I couldn’t tell where they took me,” ‘Babbit pleaded. ‘Take him to the pen. I'll be in there in a minute.” The sergeant nod- ded significantly, and the policeman who had arrested him started to obey. ‘Wait a moment, sergeant.’ It was the complainant who now in- terrupted. He had seemed to be inter- ested in Babbit’s face from the moment they had entered the room. “T don’t like to go without hearing the fellow’s story before | make the com- plaint,” he added. ‘Well, come on with your yarn. Make it short,” the sergeant snapped at Babbit. —_ That young man then began and re- hearsed the whole course of events since he had been offered a bargain in over- coats that evening. In fact, he went further back under the inspiration of questions from Mr. Moore and the ser- geant, and told something of his hard- ships in town since his arrival. “ But where, was this house?” the sergeant asked again as Babbit finished. ‘“T don’t know where they took me. I haven’t the slightest idea.” “Vou see, Mr. Moore, it’s no use. It’s hardly likely that he could be taken to a house and brought back without knowing where he went. New York is a little better laid out than that. We'll get more out of him between now and morn- ing.” The man behind the desk saw that his words were taking good effect. “T’ll be around to make the charge,” Mr. Moore promised. The clang of the patrol-wagon sound- GEORGIA MAN, 375 ed outside, and there was a_ hurried scuffling of feet at the door. “Take him in,” the sergeant com- manded, eager to get the one case out of the way before the newcomers should be presented. He lowered his eyes to the blotter as Babbit was being led to the pen. ‘The crowd from a gambling-house raid were being led into the room. “Just one moment,” the © official called after Babbit and his leader. ‘Where, did you say, is your present residence ?”’ The prisoner turned about ‘to reply. As he swung around, his eyes passed over the bunch of “ material witnesses ”’ the raiders had secured from the gam- bling-den. Then his mouth opened in wonder. He forgot to reply to the question that had been asked. In the group was a young man ;whose rich, fur-lined over- coat was opened to reveal the - flashy clothes within. “That’s the man I gave Babbit exclaimed. “That looks like my coat,” Mr. Moore seconded. The youth made a quick dodge to get away. Being arrested as a_ witness against a gambling-house was not seri- ous. He had not minded that. But the overcoat propositions was different. He was stopped, however, by a quick policeman at the door of the station- house. “Well, say, Slick Jim, I guess you overstepped the mark getting that coat back again,” the sergeant snapped at the new prisoner. “ Perhaps pou can help clear up this mystery? ”’ Slick Jim helped. Mr. had his overcoat once more. ‘The search of its pockets, however, failed to reveal the four dollars of Walter Babbit., ‘Lost them on the wheel,” Slick Jim admitted boldly. Babbit realized that he must £0 out once more into the cold coatless—and this time penniless as well. He almost wished for the warm shelter of the sta- tion-house rather than the journey to lower Eighth Avenue. “Just a moment, Mr. Babbit.” Mr. Moore stopped him at the outer door of the station. “TI had offered twenty-five the coat to!” Moore soon MICLOOOKS (C@)