Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 21, 1922 — page 96: what you’re looking at

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

86 The officer looked Shelby over calmly. Then he drew up a chair and sat down be- side him. Shelby looked at Simpson. Simpson was gazing straight ahead of him, his eyes unwinking. Shelby drew a quick breath. So far as he was concerned the game was up. Simp- son would have to take care of him now. He looked at the big, calm policeman at his elbow. The latter turned curious eyes on him. But he asked no questions. Shelby saw that the man had a bulldog tenacity, probably his chief characteristic. Escape from him would be well-nigh im- possible. The officer who had recognized him - was busy with some papers lying on the win- dow ledge. He did not look at Shelby again. He seemed to have dismissed Shelby from his mind. Shelby had to admire the keenness which had enabled him to recog- nize Shelby at once and the concentration which permitted him to drop Shelby from his mind a moment later. They sat thus in silence for twenty min- utes. Then there was the clang of the auto- patrol outside again. A furtive, undersized man of uncertain age was presently led into the room. The young officer looked up and nodded at a chair. Mickey Blair sank into it. “ Shoot along, Silent,” the officer said. Simpson took the oblong box and the pliers from his coat pocket and laid them on the desk. Then he sat back in his chair, his eyes, grown cold as ice and hard as stones, on Mickey Blair’s face. Mickey stared at the pliers and the box for a long time. Then he lifted his red eyes and looked at Simpson’s face. His eyes did not rest there long. The coldness of the face, Simpson’s ominous silence, seemed to weaken a nerve never any too good. “Well, Mickey,” the young officer said cheerfully. “ Spill it.” “ Spill what?” Mickey asked in a husky voice. The officer turnéd to the patrolman who had brought Mickey. “Hold Mickey on an open charge,” he ordered. ‘‘ Take a couple of men and go down to his place. Break in and go ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. through it. Turn it upside down. Take a look at everything he’s got there. It’s about time.” The policeman turned toward the door. Mickey Blair cleared his throat with a strangling sound. “T sold them things, if that’s what you want to know,” he said. “Without a permit?” the officer asked. “Yeh. The man said he wanted to shoot rats.” “ All the rats ought to be shot by now, Mickey,” the officer said. ‘* Well, go ahead,”’ Simpson snapped. " What more?” Mickey asked. “Who was he? If you didn’t know him what did he look like?” Mickey suddenly came to life. With many gestures he gave a minute description of the purchaser of the box of cartridges and the pliers. “What kind of gun went with them?” Simpson asked. “ A twenty-five, you c’n see,’ Mickey an- swered; ‘a small automatic.” “ That’s all I want,” Simpson said, rising. “* Lock nnickey up,” the officer said briefly. “ You ”—to the policeman at Shel- ‘by’s side—“ go along with Simpson.” Simpson led the way from the station. He and Shelby climbed aboard the engine, followed by the policeman. They had to wait to get orders to go back to the yard. When they at length pulled out, Simp- son stoad in the gangway, looking out into the night. After a while the lights of head- quarters showed up ahead of them. Simp- son turned into the cab and laid his hand on Dolan’s arm. | ‘Can you stop a minute?” he asked. Dolan stopped. Simpson smiled up at ' the policeman who was sitting on the fire- man’s box. “This is your station,” he said. can just step down.” ‘“'What’s that?” the policeman asked angrily. ‘‘ The sergeant said—”’ “The sergeant is a brisk young man,” Simpson retorted, ‘but like other young men he sometimes overlooks a bet. In this case he overlooked the fact that as soon as we were beyond the limits of your fair city we were out of his and your jurisdiction. “ You COMmiclboo SS C©