Adventure Magazine Cover — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

The Great Keegles He stepped back again, resolutely. ‘I sup- pose it wouldn’t do any harm for me to go as far as the corner,” he said. “If she isn’t there I could call a policeman and come back and get you.” ‘Quite an idea,” said Keegles ironically. “But you have overlooked one thing. While you are gone I could depart with your valuables.” The young man looked straight at Kee- gles, his lips curving into a smile. “By George, I don’t think you are that sort! I rather like you. Of course, since you are going to sleep in my bed, you can’t have any objection to telling me your name?” “Not in the least. It’s Keegles.” The young man started and took a step forward, peering close at his visitor. ‘Not Ned Keegles!” he said. “The great Keegles?”’ “There is some doubt about the prefix,” grinned Keegles, ‘but absolutely none about the latter.” The young man grasped his hand warmly. “T’ve heard Miss Hayden speak of you. Come right in and make yourself at home!”’ He jumped over to a closet and secured a hat and coat. Keegles caught his flashing grin as he went out of the door. He heard the clatter of the young man’s feet on the stairs and then the slam of the street door. iN? AND now, for the first time since Na) AU) the beginning of this strange affair, Keegles’ face grew serious. What- ever was to be his experience, it was of his own choosing. Yet such was his mental attitude toward all things in New York that the outcome of this affair concerned him very little. He was bitter against the big city that had repulsed him; his soul yearned for a clash with something tangible, some- thing alive that could strike back; every thew and sinew of his big body trembled with a lust to come into violent action. He stepped over to the bed in a little alcove, looking down at the white counter- pane. “Better than a bench,” he said. “I wonder if Hartley smokes?’ he questioned mentally. He searched in the drawer of the table for cigars. Almost the first thing he saw upon opening it was a heavy, blue- barreled .45 revolver. This he inspected minutely, finally describing it as a “‘beaut” and placing it on the table top while he con- tinued his search. He found cigars—half a box of them, long, and deliciously fragrant. 819 He selected one, found a match, pulled a big chair over near a huge center-table and, leaning back, lighted the cigar and drew long at it. ‘Woof! that’s bully!”’ he exclaimed, with the deep, stirring satisfaction that comes to a man who has long been deprived of good tobacco. For half an hour he smoked in silence, listening to the night noises that steadily diminished. Then, the cigar getting short, he held it up critically. Through the last few white clouds came a conclusion that had been long revolving. “They’re going to bind me—three of them. That will be easy. Then they’re going to sit in some chairs and watch me— maybe laugh at me. I suppose they might chuck me into a corner and sit on me. Um-m. That would be fun—for them.” He held the cigar up again and took a long look at it. ‘Toward morning I might want to smoke another of these. And if I were bound, I couldn’t do it. I don’t think Keegles is in accord with the plan.” He drew a full breath, tossed the cigar away and stood erect, stretching his big frame to its full height. “TII——”’ He smiled broadly, his muscles swelling, his nerves thrilling with pure delight over the prospect. ‘“‘Three men, and they’re going to bind me. They’re going to maul me and manhandle me, and dump me into a corner and sit on me. But Miss Hayden says they’re not going to hurt me. That’s been tabooed by the boss villain. And I’m to let them? AmI? Maybe I am, but according to the premises it looks to me as though there were going to be a scrimmage!”’ He walked to the table, secured the re- volver and placed it ina hip pocket. Then he noiselessly pushed chairs and table away from the center of the room, clearing a con- siderable space. Then he turned the light down until objects in the room could be seen very dimly, turned back the counter- pane of the bed and stretched out in it, fully dressed. SOMETIME later, when he had come very near dropping off to ” sleep, he heard a distant tower clock strike three. Simultaneously his now alert ears detected a slight creak on the stairs. He turned slowly over until he lay flat on his back. In that position he lay for a time, listening. Presently he detected a movement at the door, and finally heard a scraping sound as of a key being inserted COMIGHOO UN () (©