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Take the boodle and welcome it ain't mine but put me next to what's doing, so I'll know how my instalment of this serial story ought to read." "Mr. Cargan," replied Magee, "you know as much about that girl as I do. She asked me to get her the money, and I did." "But what's your place in the game?" "A looker-on in Athens," returned Magee.
Above the lessening roar of the train there sounded ahead of them the voices of men in turmoil and riot. Mr. Cargan turned upon Magee a face as placid and dispassionate as that of one who enters an apple orchard in May. "The boys," he smiled grimly, "welcoming me home." Then the train came to a stop, and Mr.
The rumble of their voices ceased at last. Jim Cargan was still master of the city. "Say what you will," remarked Mr. Magee to the professor as they stood together on the platform of the car, "there goes a man." He did not wait to hear the professor's answer. For he saw the girl of the Upper Asquewan station, standing on a baggage truck far to the left of the mob, wave to him over their heads.
"I have always been a man of peace, and the wild scuffle that claimed me for one of its leading actors from that moment will remain in my memory as long as I live. Cargan dynamited the safe. Kendrick held him up; you held up Kendrick. I peeked through your window and saw you place the package of money under a brick in your fireplace " "You the curtains were down," interrupted Magee.
Cargan?" "Red," replied Cargan. "What else could it be? All red." He picked it up and shuffled through it to prove his point. Kendrick turned like a drunken man and staggered back down the aisle. Magee rose and hurried after him. At the door he turned, and the look on his face caused Magee to shudder. "You heard?" he said helplessly. "My God! It's funny, isn't it?"
"Look about all you like," agreed Magee. "You won't find it. Mr. Cargan, I admit that I laid for you last night. I saw you open the safe according to the latest approved methods, and I saw you come forth with a package of money. But I wasn't rough with you. I might have been, to be frank, but somebody beat me to it." "Who?" "The man with the seventh key, I suppose.
"The first essential of good will toward men is not to rob and debauch them." "Oh, well, Doc, don't let's argue the matter," replied Cargan easily. "I ain't in the humor for it, anyhow. You got your beliefs, and I got my beliefs. And that ain't no reason why we should not smoke a couple of good cigars together. Have one?" "Thanks.
"I reckon there was a lot in his record wasn't meant for the newspapers," continued Cargan reflectively. "And it didn't get there. Nap was lucky. He had it on the reformers there. They couldn't squash him with the power of the press." Mr. Magee broke away from the mayor's rehashed history, and hurried to Miss Norton.
The place is full of them." "Full of what?" asked the mayor. "Of spotters, maybe I don't know what they are. There's an old high-brow and a fresh young guy, and two women." "People," gasped the mayor. "People here?" "Sure." "You're asleep, Bland." "No I'm not, Cargan," cried the haberdasher. "Look around for yourself. The inn's overrun with them." Cargan leaned weakly against a chair.
At his side was a thin waif who had not unjustly been termed the mayor of Reuton's shadow. "Asleep," bellowed the big man. "How's this for a watch-dog, Lou?" "Right on the job, ain't he?" sneered the thin one. Mr. Bland started suddenly from slumber, and looked up into the eyes of the newcomers. "Hello, Cargan," he said. "Hello, Lou. For the love of heaven, don't shout so.
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