Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 77: what you’re looking at

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

SHELBY’S engine had stopped at the east switch by, now and was standing there with dimmed headlight. In a moment Sweeney came out, He had a bundle in his hand. “ Here’s a pair of overalls and a jumper and a cap,” he said. ‘ H you get into a tight place you just slip into ’em and smudge your face some and they’ll take you for a tallow or a shack on his way home. Oh, just a minute more.” He went back into the caboose again. When he came out he had a dinner-bucket in his hand. ‘‘I don’t know who this belongs to, but it ‘ll help you get by,” he said. “ You can walk right down the middle of the street just like that and nobody will bother ou.” ‘Tt seems kind of foolish, Sweeney,” Shelby protested. “Surely they wouldn’t send me to jail for smashing a guy like Osborne.” “ Th’ hell they wouldn’t!”” Sweeney said. ‘Why, I had a brother-in-law once that they sent to jail for less’n that. You take my tip and tote that stuff with you. In the mornin’ you slip into them clothes till you see how the land lays. The paper ’ll have a piece about all this. That mornin’ paper prints every little item that comes along when it’s about a rail. Where’ll you spend the night?”’ “T’ll be darned if I know,” Shelby said. “Well, I tell you,” Sweeney said. ‘“ You ride over to Dayton, the next station, you know. There’s no night operator there. You can hoist a window and get in and roost there to-night. Ill drop you down all right.’’ “YT don’t believe I want to break any more laws, Sweeney,” Shelby said. ‘“‘ What kind of country is it up beyond the tracks here?” ‘““ Why, there’s the stone quarry beyond us, don’t you remember? ‘There’s a shanty there and it’s never locked. You could go in there without breakin’ no law. How’ll that suit you?” “It’s the best I can do, I guess,” Shelby said. ‘‘ You’ll keep still, Sweeney?” ‘As a moonshiner. How’re you fixed for coin?” ‘“T got a little.” HEAD-ON CRASH. 67 Sweeney dug out a big wallet. up a single ten-dollar bill. “It’s all P’ve got on me,” Sweeney said. “If I had more you’d be welcome to it. You can send.it back to me when you get it. Watchin’ you put the wallop on that cuss Osborne was worth more. You don’t get a chance to get in on a thing like that very much nowadays.” ‘Well, I’m much obliged, Sweeney,” Shelby said. “I'll see you again before long, or write you. So-long.” “ So-long, and good luck,” said Sweeney. Shelby dropped down from the caboose and walked up the road beyond the tracks. He found himself at the beginning of a woods and he sat down to wait for the meet order to be carried out. He suddenly felt very lonely. He was a social animal, and at Boynton everybody had been his friend. It did not seem pos- sible that he had become an outcast in a few hours. . He looked at his blue serge suit with a sigh. It was damp and wrinkled. The shine was gone from his tan shoes. As he rubbed his chin, he felt that the red stub- ble that he never permitted to show was well started. The rain hadn’t done the near-Panama any good. He was roused from these observations by the sight of a motor-car’s headlight com- ing down the road. He watched it idly. It was coming fast, and it suddenly clanged its gong. The sound of that gong brought Shelby up with a start. It had a distinc- tive note. The car came to the crossing and stopped. Shelby saw that the machine was a police- patrol. There was a uniformed man at the wheel, and another uniformed man stepped to the ground. He walked rapidly to the caboose and called out. Sweeney opened the door at once. ‘‘ Seen anything of a man in a blue suit and a straw hat down this way?” the police- man asked. ‘““Haven’t seen a soul,’’ Sweeney an- swered. ‘‘ We just stopped here. I been inside.” ‘“What’re you waiting for?” ‘“ A westbound freight,” Sweeney said. “Will it stop?” It gave comicloool C©