The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 216: what you’re looking at

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

202 cated, and with a jerk Ramsdell broke loose from them and, springing to the fire-alarm box, sent in the signal. Hardly had he done so, though, be- fore the two brawny detectives had him once more firmly gripped on either side. . “You can’t hand us any such steer as that, young fellow,” mocked Brady. ‘“T give you credit for trying to work a pretty smooth scheme, all right; but it don’t go this time.” “What do you mean?” protested Ramsdell, struggling vigorously. “ I’m trying to work no scheme. Come on down to 86, you boneheads, and let us see what we can do to put out the blaze.” Brady and Schmitz only taughed and took a tighter hold on his collar. “Blaze?” they jeered. “ You'll have to show us. Why, there isn’t even a sniff of smoke in the air. No, no, son; you thought maybe that you could stir up a rumpus here and slip away in the excitement, but we’re too old to fall for a game of that sort. What you'll do is march down to head- quarters and offer a few explanations.” “You'd arrest me, eh? On what sort of a charge, I'd like to know?” ‘* What it'll be later I'm not prepared to say,” grinned Brady. “ But just now all we need is your sending in a false alarm.” “A false alarm!” cried Ramsdell hotly. ‘Oh, you idiot! You'll see how much of a false alarm it 1s unless you do something mighty quick. I tell you I saw the blaze starting with my own eyes. That’s what made me sprint out of the library so fast.”’ Brady could only stare at him. “Are you crazy?” he demanded. ‘Or what kind of a play are you trying to pull off? Saw something from the library, eh? With not a window in the place, and a granite wall three feet thick between you and the street? Why, you gook, if this spiel is on the level, the place for you is in the funny- house! ”’ While they were arguing, the clang THE ARGOSY. of approaching fire-engines had been sounding in all directions, for an alarm from such an important neighborhood drew all the apparatus in that section of the city; and now the first of the companies to arrive dashed up to the scene and halted. ‘Where is it?” sharply questioned a helmeted captain, while his men, springing from their places on the truck, began hurriedly unpacking lad- ders and coupling up the hose. “Down at No. 86!” shrilled back Ramsdell before the detectives could interpose. “It’s a fire on the third floor!” “Shut up, you!” silencing hand over his mouth. he turned to the fireman. ‘Don’t bother to unreel your hose there, cap,” he directed, throwing back the lapel of his coat to show his badge. “Tt’s only a fluke this guy sent in be- fore we could stop him. .Whether he’s a bug or not I can’t quite say yet; but we're going to find out pretty shortly.” To the battalion chief who came whirling up a minute later he repeated the same statement; and the latter promptly got busy in despatching the different engines back to their quarters. Just at this instant, though, the prisoner, managing to break loose from his captors, threw out an arm to point excitedly down the street. “Look!” he cried. “ Was I right about the fire or not?” Following involuntarily with their gaze the direction of his outflung hand, the little group about him started back with varying expressions of surprise and consternation. From the eaves of No. 86, an old- fashioned brown-stone boarding-house down the cross street opposite the granite library, shone a dull red glow, and even as they looked thin clouds of smoke’ began curling up all along the cornice. “By Jove! it’s a fire, all right,” ex- claimed the battalion chief; “ and, what’s more, it bids fair to be a nasty one! Brady clapped a Then CoOMmicbook CO