Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 185: what you’re looking at

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

A Hot-Dog in a Hurry Presently the man finished, and flinging down his shovel trundled his wheelbarrow down the hall to regions unknown, closely followed, not to say pursued, by Miss Dem. He steered his course to the nearest freight elevator and waited till the man in charge flung the door open. Miss Dem hopped on as impudently as a sparrow. “Git off!’ the elevator man ordered trucu- lently. ‘“‘When we get to the bottom,” Miss Dem agreed placidly. ‘“‘Where d’you think you’re goin’?” he asked sarcastically. Miss Dem sighed portentously. ‘I’m on my way to th’ dump-heap,” she announced. ‘Don’t stop me!” Both men guffawed. - Number one trun- dled his barrow on to the elevator. Num- ber two slapped to the door and pulled the wire rope. He turned and surveyed his extra passenger. ‘‘Say, you must be Miss Dem, ain’t you?” “One shot, one hit,”’ she answered briefly. ae 8 am.”’ “T guess Mr. Morisson won’t mind if I do give you a ride then,” he ventured. Every one in the plant knew the story of Miss Dem’s part in the recovery of the little Morisson boy, and of his father’s gratitude to her. The dump-heap proved to be in the rear of the engine-house—such a mountain of rubbish, that it seemed useless to hunt for anything in it. But Miss Dem peeled off her coat, rolled up her sleeves, and got to work, sneezing as the dust of the plaster sifted up under her busy hands. But though she sought long and valiantly, not one scrap of Jimmy’s precious notes came to light. She pondered the matter deeply on her way home. It seemed extraordinary that not one tiny bit—not one infinitesimal frag- ment—not one scrawling note in the Hot Dog’s peculiar writing—should have es- caped the flames. And, by the way, not one bit of the films themselves, although in the sticky remnant she had made out the selvedge of some with the name of Morisson’s own mark. But none of the Half Moon Company’s films. Something flitted across Miss Dem’s con- sciousness and was gone. Then in the busy afternoon which ensued she forgot every- thing else, and it was not till weeks after- 183 ward that she recaptured the half-fledged suspicion and knew it for what it was. IT WAS some time later that, pass- ing near the Morisson plant, she walked into the little St. Peter house at the gate to have a chat with Steve. ‘“‘What’s the news?” she asked, leaning her elbows comfortably on the high counter. “Nothing much— Oh, yes! Mr. Moris- son has gone in for another fire-proof film.” “Suffering kittens!’ was Miss Dem’s com- ment. “I thought it was never-again-so- help-me for him.”’ ‘‘So it was,’ Steve admitted. “But this is Falworth’s own invention. Mr. Morisson has a lot of confidence in him.” “Humph!” Miss Dem ‘“‘That’s more than I have.” ‘Same here,” Steve said significantly. ‘‘Where’s Jimmy Squires?” she asked ab- ruptly. | “Oh, he got bounced a week ago,” Steve informed her. ‘‘And though I couldn’t put my finger on it,” he added in a low tone, “T’ve a notion Mr. Falworth had something to do with it.” “T shouldn’t be shocked to death with surprise to hear it,’’ she commented dryly. ‘‘T’ve even fancied he knew more about that explosion than anybody else knew.”’ ‘“Well,”? Steve remarked eagerly, “I won- dered that night why he came——”’ He stopped short, biting his lip as if he had said more than he intended. Into Miss Dem’s mind flashed the picture of a dark street, and a man bundled up in an overcoat, and walking with soft, mincing steps, and, with the picture, Steve’s words just after the fire, ““You’re the second one I let in tonight.” | A sudden determination struck her. *““Steve,” she said, “I want to see Mr. Falworth.” Steve shook his head. “He left five minutes ago—for Washing- ton. He’s gone to register his patent.” Miss Dem smote one fist on the other palm. With feminine unreason she: would have sworn that Falworth had stolen the Hot Dog’s invention, and had gone to make it his own. Yet she realized that she had only the slenderest evidence to go on—evi- dence that would count nothing before a court of law. As she stood there she put it succinctly to herself, while Steve looked curiously at her without a word. exclaimed. CoMmichoooks CO