The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 127: what you’re looking at

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

ONE CROWDED CHRISTMAS. life would not be worth a moment’s purchase. “Now I am going to trust you, Swanson; I, have the $52,000 now in my possession, but in its present shape it is absolutely valueless to me. I am shadowed and spied upon every move I make, and if I were to attempt to pass one of those $1,000 bills, I would have the pack on me like wolves. I want to get away from this thraldom. I have plans all laid, whereby I can escape to a safe place with my wife and child; but I need money to accomplish it, and, as I say, it would be equivalent to my death-warrant even to show one of the bills. “You can break them, though, into currency of more convenient denomi- nations. You are discreet and tactful, and all you would have to do would be to go about from place to place ‘chan- ging them until the job was done. As the son of old Otto Swanson, nobody would question you for a second.” ‘But why don’t you simply take your money to a bank and have it ex- changed there?” Frank asked. “T tell you I am watched every mo- ment. Besides, bank clerks sometimes talk, and even in the largest institu- tions the showing of fifty-two $1,000 bills by an unknewn man ts apt to cause comment. You must avoid that dan- ger, too. Change the bills separately for me, at different places, and in an ordinary, casual fashion.” “But if you are watched, as you claim, why will I not be shadowed, too?” “ Ah, that is just the point. Owing to your late and unforeseen coming, and the fact that they believed me safe- ly housed for the night, I have man- aged to elude their spies on this one occasion. And now tell me, will you or will you not render me this service? I will pay you, as I said, $5,000 for your assistance, and allow you, in ad- dition, $1,000 to spend in getting the bills broken. Come, is it a bargain?” But Frank had still one more ques- tion he wanted to put. 113 “Where did this from?” he asked. “That I must decline to tell you.” The lawyer returned his searching gaze without the quiver of a muscle. “ You must take my word for it that it was made by honest toil, and comes to me in legitimate fashion.” Swanson was satisfied. “I’m your man,’ he said. ‘ Where’s the money? ” “ Right here.” The other lifted the suit-case from the floor and pressed the handle into the young fellow’s hand. “ Now,” he said hurriedly, as they drew up in front of a big terminal sta- tion, “it is better that we should sepa- rate. Come here to-morrow at the same hour and wait for me in a taxi- cab with the changed money. And, re- member, Swanson, I am trusting every- thing to you.” Then, with a parting grip of. the hand, he was gone. Frank drove on across town to a big pretentious hotel, and registered. No longer did he have to consider the com- parative merits of cheap _ lodging- houses, or “ beef and” joints. With $5,000 as good as in his hand, he was already in a fair way to achieve the shining success he had promised to show his cynical sire. Still, it must be admitted that the responsibility of the suit-case was more or less of a care to him. He placed it under his pillow for security; but even then he did not dare close his eyes until broad daylight, and as a consequence he slept late into the morning, with the result that when he did arise he felt it obligatory to hustle out at once on his mission without stopping for break- fast or a peep at the morning paper. He had small reason to complain of his success, however, when he did get started. One of the yellow certificates he put through at the hotel, and another at a big rival caravansary across the street. With a third and fourth he paid up his bills at two tailoring estab- lishments, and, on the strength of his prospective windfall, ordered at each several new suits of clothes. money come CoOMmicbook CO