Adventure Magazine Cover — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

The Sunshine Separator to them people I’ll take it to ’em. I’m goin’ down past their place.”’ The big man regarded the little figure indulgently. Then his eyes turned thought- fully to the typewriter. “Why, that’s a good idea, neighbor!’’ he said briskly. ‘If you’re willing to bother about it, Pll drop ’em a line.’”? He sat down to the desk and scribbled off a pencilled note. “There,” he said handing it to Spider. “Tf you'll leave that at their office, it’ll oblige me.”’ He dropped a familiar hand on the Ferret’s shoulder and smiled graciously. “If you ever happen to strike Sunshine, Nebraska, neighbor, look me up,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “They all know me out there—name’s Joel Smart. And look here,” —he pulled a grave face—“‘you won’t go chasing around any more calling this Span- ish writer Perry Goriott, will you, huh? Remember, now, it’s pronounced ‘Pee-ree Go-Riot.’”” He held out his hand, “ Good- by,” he said genially. Spider took the proffered hand with a sheepish grin and, murmuring an embar- rassed good-by, hurried off. The Westerner dropped into his chair, chuckling softly, and gazed thoughtfully out of the window. Gradually the chuckle increased in volume and finallyripened into a dry, ironical laugh. {iI SPIDER, meanwhile, dashed out of the building, his spindle legs geared up to a break-neck pace. Dodging foot-passengers and worming his way through the traffic, he hurried along through a net-work of back streets, headed for McPhee’s saloon on First Avenue, for a con- suming idea was burning in his heated brain. In less than ten minutes he had covered the ground and reached the barroom where with a short nod to Dan the bartender, he burst excitedly through into the rear room. Big Pete and Reddy Burns were still there, comfortably harbored, idly waiting the stroke of noon to gather and congest human- ity in certain favorite pastures known to be fertile. At Spider’s precipitate entrance they both sprang to their feet in terror and scrambled pell-mell toward the back door. A satirical grin on the Ferret’s face, how- ever, reassured them. Reddy Burns thrust out an ugly jaw at the offender 803 “You rat-eyed little devil!” he exclaimed uncharitably. ‘‘What’s the matter with yer? Are yer bug-house?”’ Big Pete glared fiercely. “Some day,” he said with bitter emphasis, “‘T’ll take that peanut head of your’n between me thumb and finger and—Yer crazy yap!” he sud- denly exploded, “didn’t I tell yer I had smoker’s heart?”’ Spider was too full of his project to waste time in vain recrimination. ‘‘Say, fellers,’’ he began excitedly, “‘I’ve got next the soft- est frame-up over on FourteenthStreet he broke off, overcome by the thought, and crossing his arms piously on his chest, rolled his eyes heavenward. “Honest, yer talk about yer easy hand-me-outs!” he con- tinued feelingly, ‘‘It’ll be just like cuttin’ buttons off a drunk!’’ He dropped into a chair and graphically described his interview with Mr. Joel Smart of Sunshine, Nebraska. ‘‘ And there’s the order that’ll cop the goods! he concluded, displaying the Westerner’s letter. He spread the note on the table, and they bent their heads over it critically. It was very brief. ‘‘Please call at once for type- writer,” constituted the body of the order, followed by the signed name. “Huh!” growled Reddy Burns. ‘‘What’s the good of second-hand typewriters?”’ He was a short, blocky little man with a tousled red head, and a loose, indeterminate mouth that drooped at the corners in a perpetual sneer. The heavy jaw and vinous blue eyes set a trifle too close together gave the countenance a tough, sinister look. He wore a cheap derby hat, usually cocked over one ear. “But this is a new one!” declared Spider enthusiastically. ‘I seen it. It’s good for seventy bones. If you put the order up to the guy, Reddy, he’ll fall for it. Sure! He’s easy. He’ll never get wise who you are.” The latter shook his head doubtfully. “How do I know he ain’t workin’ some fly frame-up?” he said skeptically. “I ain’t honin’ hard to get pinched.” “T tell yer it’s all on the level!’ insisted Spider. ‘‘And the big stuff is movin’ out West to-morrow. It’s a cinch!” “Sure. One of them kind that grips yer round the wrist!”’ defined Reddy satirically. “I’m wise. I guess I pass. I ain’t strong like Pete.’? He turned to the latter. ‘‘ You get busy with it, Pete!”’ COmicboolkxs.com