Motion Picture Story Magazine (Feb-Jul 1912)

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AN ANTIQUE RING 107 couraging messenger, ' things looked pretty much the same.' " 'H— 1!' said Dixon. 'Why, where have my righteous tears in the Friend* seeped to, anyway?' ' ' ' Crocodile ones, ' softly corrected Hen, from his parched throat. 'See here,' he said, 'I've done a bit of thinking, hiking across the ranges, and to sum up, there's no use throwing fresh eggs after spilled beans. The mining towns are all right, grant that, but these rubes and Swedes that wear suspenders, and stay in the ranch-house at night to go to the little crossroads church on Sundays, have got to be reached, and reached hard, in another way.' " 'Do you want me to turn religious?' sneered Dixon. " 'Well, hardly a cheap joke like that,' said Hen, candidly, 'but a better one, and something needing the dexterous hand. Catch me?' " 'Well?' said the banker. "Hen lowered his voice out of range of the office force in the room adjoining. 'Simpson's a family man, with a single-minded heart that has won the rurals for keeps. They 're all for the morality business, man, and we've got to counter them there.' Here he almost pressed his lips against the other's willing ear. 'We've got to get something on the governor's private life, even if we have to turn it out home-made, without the union label. Savez?' :' 'But,' objected the banker, 'we cant lay a finger on him. The man's private life is irreproachable.' " 'I've been thinking some hard, governor,' the insinuator said, with a sly but respectful dig at Dixon's ribs, 'and I've found out the joint in his armor — it's Matthews, his other self and secretary. Once get around him, and we're over the transom.' " 'Impossible,' began the banker. " 'I tell you I know the chap,' said Hen. 'Behind that stiff Sundayschool front of his, he's as soft as a baby. He'll do anything to get in right with Kitty Jordan, the governor's stenographer, who tips us off on all the inside stuff. She 's a good-look er, and a cool one, and he's suddy over her — slopping over, inside, of course. Now, Kitty and I have got the stairs all greased for him — waiting for you to bow him down. ' "He paused to free a few low chuckles. Dixon stood all the while as if the thing bored him as a silly makeshift. " 'Here,' he said, finally, 'you had better come into my private office and let me hear your fairy story. There 's no telling what kind of a drink you 've concocted after that trip thru the dry country. ' "Late that night John Matthews walked down the figuratively slippery back stairs, and stood out in the moonlight, a dazed and tempted man. A big arc light on the corner winked and sputtered at him as if teasing his gloomy perplexity. He was only human, after all, and the sum that Dixon and Foster had offered him 'to play a little joke on the governor,' would make him independent for life. He had smelled the evil edge of the thing, and had drawn back at first, frightened and angry; then the telephone had rung opportunely, and the damask voice of Kitty seemed to purr gently in his ear. She felt so near, then, yet so impossibly distant from him, as he hung up the receiver on her playful, inconsequent words, that he thought, at any rate, he would keep her aloof from the serious end of the thing, and let her play out an unconscious tragedy, with that pouting touch of hers, which would be all the more subtle thru not touching the muck below. "Thus tempted, he consented to look upon the unfolding of the plan with unscornful eyes, and to give his decision, as to whether he would be a principal, on the following morning. "I will not enter into the dizzy span of his thoughts under the shadow of the street lamp. It is safe to say they started out in the bursting run of manliness, and ended in the lame walk of opportunity, and with the chance taken — Kitty. "Therefore, when, in the early office hours, Hen's troubled face hung