The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 132: what you’re looking at

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

118 his waist, trying to hide the twin bands of steel and their smal! connecting chain up his sleeves. A faint tinkle—what was that? His heart leaped. Could—could it be that the things had come unlocked? In some way were the handcuffs loose as he stood there? Was it possible for him to slip them off undetected, and then—but instantly his heart sank again. | ‘That was a wild hope’ soon squelched. The manacles were firm as ever. It must have been one link of the chain grating against another that he had heard. Unaided, he would never be able to get out of the things. Now the elevator was rising. Sounds of its progress floated up the shaft to where they stood. Lewis could feel his ears burning. “Quick, Inspector!” he urged. “ Take these things off—come on, be a good fellow! They’re ridiculous, really—” “Perhaps they aren’t as up-to-date as those you've been accustomed to wearing,” interrupted the sleuth from Scotland Yard. ‘‘ As a matter of fact, they’re quite antiquated, [ll admit. Nowadays, so I understand, a brace- let is in almost universal use which fastens the prisoner to his captor. These, you see, are old-style. But I think you'll find they’re serviceable— entirely to be depended upon to do their work, I assure you..’ He smiled behind his trim beard. “Tl take your word for it,” Lewis told him. “ But now won’t you listen to reason, and take them off ? You've nothing to fear. Honestly, I’m as anx- ious now to get to the station-house with you, to prove my innocence, you see, as you're eager to take me there.” “ That’s why you kicked up the row you did back there?”’ scoffed the de- tective. “ Yes—I think we can trust you, all right! Id be likely to try it!” “But I’m resigned now,’ Lewis urged. “ Before I thought I'd rather run the risk of getting into trouble for resisting an officer than being put to THE ARGOSY. the humiliation of going to jail. I’m awtully sensitive, you know. But now I see it’s best for me to go. I'll have to prove I’m not the man you take me for. I’ve got to prove it. So you won’t have a bit of trouble with me after this!” Inspector Flinch shook his head. “Vd rather hear you teil it,” said he, “‘ with those handcuffs on, than be- lieve it with ’em off. And you'll stay as you are, my friend. ‘That’s flat. Here we are. -Going down—down here, lift!” The elevator door rolled open. Lewis, escorted up to the entrance of the car by his two guards, saw that there were already three or four pas- sengers occupying the cage. He dropped his eyes, keeping his arms folded across him stomach with the handcuffs con- cealed as much as possible by his sleeves, and allowed himself, willy- nilly, to be helped aboard. These strangers with whom he was forced literally to rub elbows looked at him, to be sure. But, oddly, it was not with the open-mouthed wonder he had anticipated under the circum- stances. . And then a possible reason for his calm reception suddenly occurred to Lewis. Stealthily he looked down at himself. The bracelets of steel that bound his wrists were completely hid- den, due to the way he held his arms crossed at the front of his coat. Lift- ing his eyes, he shot a quick glance at the others in the elevator. Two of the men were no longer look- ing his way. A third carelessly turned aside his head even as the reporter’s eyes reached him. The fourth stranger —pbut he, at least, was regarding him, Lewis found; staring straight at him, as a matter of fact. A stout individual, not any too well- dressed, smooth-shaven, with a thin stain of tobacco juice extending from one corner of his mouth to the end of his double chin, as he leaned against the grill-work side of the cage behind the negro elevator-runner. He was CoOmiclooks.COm