Adventure Magazine Cover, October 1911 — page 61: what you’re looking at

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

The Adventure of the French Captain A low, self-satisfied chuckle came from the corner of the room. Cornelius Clancy, faithful factotum of the master of the estab- lishment, winked mischievously at the limb of the law. “We have no Grand Viziers,’’ continued Barnes, ignoring the muffled interruption, ‘“‘and we may be a little short on Caliphs, one-eyed Calenders and Royal Mendicants, but we have men and women whose actual experiences cause the make-believe stories of the Turks and Persians to seem pale and prosaic in comparison. Here’s the recipe: Pour a million human beings in the seething cauldron which you may call New York, Chicago, Boston, or any of our large cities, stir them up with hate and love, make their interests and ambitions clash, and if the result doesn’t spell romance and adventure, then my hair has grown gray in vain!” ‘‘Perhaps there’s something in what you say,” conceded the lawyer. ‘Something in what I say!’’ Barnes re- torted explosively. ‘“There’s everything in what Isay! Bully stories bump up against you every day in the week and you don’t know it! The man that sits beside you in the sub- way train may be an embezzler; the smiling woman you pass on the street probably has a heart-affair, which, if properly told, would melt a hardened first-nighter into tears. Why, the chances are that I couldn’t throw a stone out of this window without hitting a person whose life would furnish a plot better than anything you read in fiction.” Forward smiled feebly. He spoke softly: “Til grant you the possibility of an adven- ture, but you speak of them as if they hung on every bush.” Barnes rubbed his hand across his bald head with unnecessary vigor. “Forward,” he cried, “‘you’re the most persistent doubter I ever met. But you can’t phase your Uncle Bromley. I'll go out for a dozen nights and bring you back an adventure every time!”’ “IT thought you retired from the detective business, Chief,’’ ventured Clancy. “‘So I have,” was the prompt rejoinder. “You couldn’t drag me back into that sort of thing with a double team of horses,”’ The others exchanged smiling glances. ‘‘And you wouldn’t even go out to solve some of those knotty customs cases?”’ in- sinuated Forward. “Not if I knew it,” replied the old man. ‘But I’m willing to convince you youngsters 1007 that all the poetry and romance has not been squeezed out of life—that is, if you’ll help.” “We'll accept your challenge,” shouted Forward, ‘‘and we'll call ourselves ‘The Adventure Syndicate—Limited!’”’ ‘Sounds good,” smiled the old man, enter- ing into the spirit of the sport, “but why the ‘Limited’?”’ ‘Oh, that’s just a business word put in for your sake.” ‘For my sake?” “Yes,” laughed the lawyer, “it means that your responsibility in this scheme is limited. If you don’t make good, we’re going to be magnanimous. We'll think as much of you as if you hadn’t entered on this Don Quixote enterprise.” ‘All night, boys,” agreed Barnes. ‘““Now, what about the first adventure? ”’ asked Forward. The old man smiled blandly. ‘I don’t know,” he said, “‘but the other day you told me you had been living in New York over twenty years and had never been on the Bowery. You said that, for all you knew to the contrary, there wasn’t any Bowery, except maybe a myth invented for the benefit of song-writers and vaudeville artists. You're the first New Yorker that ever ad- mitted ignorance of anything. You deserve consideration. I’ll go to the Bowery with you right now.” “But,” objected the lawyer, looking at the immaculate evening dress of the Chief, “‘I thought you were going to the Opera to-night?” ‘So I was, but I’m willing to swap it for something of human interest. The Bowery for me.” _ Clancy sighed. “I’m afraid you’re both going to be dread- fully disappointed. The Bowery’s perfectly respectable. It’s like any other business street in New York.” mihi IN SPITE of this warning they made the trip to the once-famous thorough- fare. As Clancy predicted, they were completely disillusioned. They passed one of the modern moving-picture shows. Barnes shook his head sadly. ‘“‘Nothing the same; since Tony Pastor died, the whole town seems different.” Just as he spoke a ball of crumpled paper fell directly in front of the old man. The others kept moving, but Barnes halted them. The next moment he was pulling out a © MICLOOKS C©