Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 113: what you’re looking at

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

Men of the Night httle toward Middleton and leaned over confidentially : “That Rawlinson dinner, m’boy—I -see by the papers it was a success. But by : boy, you were crazy to take a chance like that. Who was the other party with you?” ‘“Silkeen.”’ ‘“T have heard of him. He is a gunman, I believe.” “Ts he?”? Middleton asked with a hint of surprize. | “Why, didn’t you know? Where did you ever meet him not to know that?” Silkeen and Middleton had broken prison bread together. It is in stir, as nowhere else this side of heaven, that men bare their souls one to another. But he said to Drount: “T have known him in a way for a long time. Harry is wanted on so many charges he simply can’t fix it. And that kind of fellow is always safe, though he may be a little reckless.” “T guess you’re right,” said Drount reflec- tively. “Yes, you’re right.” He rubbed his hands again. “Some nice things, weren’t there?” Middleton nodded. “Two big brutal fellows,” Drount laughed. “That is what the papers called you. Cut the telephone wires before you entered the house. Came in through the kitchen while the guests were waiting for their dessert. Mrs. Rawlinson is prostrated. Her necklace of matched pearls had been delivered only eight hours before. Unpleasant luck. Very.” He laughed, and, tapping Middleton’s knee, added: “Tt wouldn’t have happened if she had got the necklace through Drount. You know” he was serious, almost virtuous about it— “I never put you on to any of my customers.” “No, Drount, you haven’t,” Middleton agreed with ironic quietness of tone. ‘When you rob anybody here in the store it isn’t worth while following them home.”’ Drount did not laugh. He had humor, but he did not consider that a joke.’ He was cynical, he made a jest of what he called his ingenuity; but like all crooks he had a little spot of honesty -that he cher- ished, prided himself on, took seriously. The murderer may feel himself deserving of respect and trust because he has never beaten his wife; the wife-beater would scorn to pick a pocket; the dip may be -in the newspaper account. lil righteous in his hatred of murder; and in the whole muster of crime’s legion there is none so low, so utterly lost, from the Drounts to the pimps, but refuses to stoop to some sort of villainy. Every man is a Pharisee at heart. Drount liked Middleton, but because he was just a little uneasy of that quiet irony and impenetrably half-amused air, he tried to treat Middleton with a kind of fraternal intimacy. Also, and this did much to in- crease Drount’s respect, he knew Middle- ton’s manner of polite indifference, of idle- ness, almost boredom, was the mask behind which an altogether different sort of man was concealed; and he was not quite sure just how dangerous this man might be. Undoubtedly he could be dangerous to anybody, for there seemed to be no au- dacity at which he hesitated. “Well,” said Drount, leaning forward expectantly and having his hands ready as he got to the subject of most interest to him, ‘“‘you have the things with you?” “No. I didn’t bring them.” “Tut-tut-tut,’ Drount remarked, a little annoyed. “Beautiful things among them?” Viae” “When do I get to see them?” “T can’t say exactly.” “Why, what’s the matter, my boy?” Drount was on the verge of becoming agitated. “The matter is this: More people fig- ured in the Rawlinson job than appeared There is some —l’ll say misunderstanding, about the split.” “‘Who-all were in on it?” Drount asked as if he had the right to know. Middleton inquired— “To whom do you dispose of stuff that you know very well is stolen?” Drount’s countenance took on suddenly an expression of mild distress that his friend should so far forget the amenities of busi- ness as to make inquiries of that nature. ‘Just so,’ said Middleton. “I too have some associates that would perhaps not thank me to pass their names about. . You understand?” Drount did, or said that he did anyway. He talked a little more about the Rawlin- son jewels, asked some questions, got what he had to consider as the answers he wanted, then asked Middleton about the next job that was on the schedule—the Holder ° COmicloooks (C@