Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1913-07-15
A Mug S Game
To-day's Complete Short Story.

He did," cried Jones, leaping from
his chair.
Yes" Stemmings repeated Why
Nothing" replied Jones, informa-
lively
With which he collected his bill
hastily and performed the unprece-
| dented fact of returning to the office
twenty minutes before time.
Caught!
When he saw Brown in the tea shop
the horrible suspicion had loomed in
upon him mat someone other than the
assistant senior clerk was imprisoned
in the lift. Stemmings had practical
ly confirmed the suspicion. Who the
other person was Jones hardly dared
to imagine. Trusting open the
swing doors, he dashed across the
spacious showroom to the lift. There
was a non committaI kind of silence
hanging over 1t that struck vague
fear to the young mans heart lie
closed the gate and pressed the but
ton.
If Mr.. Jones could have stepped
under the down coming lift and con-
verted it into an automatic jugger-
maui, he would have welcomed the
opportunity. The sight of the now
calm, ominous face of Mr.. Todbury
Finch struck cold despair into his
heart.
The partner stepped out in silence;
then he turned round on the expect
ant clerk with alarming shrewdness.
Did you do it," he snarled.
Now, had Mr. Jones been possessed
of greater presence of mind or been a
more accomplished disciple of Ana
Mas. he might have offered a fiat and
indignant denial; but he did not
Tin sorry, sir" he stammered.
Il thought 1t was Brown"
You did, did your" said Mr.. Finch.
Come UP to my office at once"
Jones followed him meekly.
Now, explain it exactly" the chief
commenced
Jones' perceiving the only possible
avenue of escape was the truth. made
clean breast Of the whole affair.
Bounced.
81 see,' said Mr.. Finch, after a de-
pressing silence. You were playing
a practical joke. / happened to be
of us, Mr.. Jones. l must ask you to
seek another employment. A weeks
notice. Thank you!"
The worst mas happened. Reality
is seldom worse than anticipation
Jones whistled jauntily as he left the
room
Having thus vented his spleen, Tod
bury Finch. ESQ, lay back on his
chair and pondered
Serves the young brat right" he
muttered.
Teach EN- all lesson. Lost me a
hundred odd, young dog"
Shortly after o'clock he went out
to lunch. He ran into a shouting
newsboy on the street. Mr. Finch
understood the burden of his song
1t was: Two o'clock results; piperl"
Who won the race?" asked Mr.
Finch handing the boy a coin
Felix" said the youngster
promptly.
Felix" incredulously. How about
Buebell?"
The boy eyed the partner pityingIy.
Also ran, o course" he said. Back
imp"
Mr. Finch could not conceal his ex-
element.
"Wot! Glad e lorst?" said the boy
bewideredly.
Eyes, rather" said the partner. and
turned his face toward the office
while the newsboy looked after him.
doubling the sanity of the world
Mr.. Finch was Of a merCurial tenn
permanent. The fact that Blueben had
lost turned spleen into positive jubi-
lation. The period he had spent in
the lift had saved him $3.50
Bluebell was supposed to be a
cert"
After all. betting was a mugs"
game He thought he would drop it.
Late that afternoon Mr. Jones was
surprised to receive another summons
to the chief
I've been thinking, Jones" said
Todbury Finch sternly. perhaps !
was little hard in dismissing you
You will resume your duties as
usual, and. perhaps, keep practical
Joking out of official business"
Jones promised humbly that he
would. and left piously. To this day
he has never dreamed the truth.