Adventure Magazine Cover — page 127: what you’re looking at

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

Men of the Night yours, why we know right away that there must be something in that house worth going after.” ‘Something in that, too,” said Holder heavily, as impersonally as if it were not his house that was being robbed. ‘“‘Boy, move a chair before the safe for Mr. Holder. You are entitled to be com- fortable anyway.” Burillo did push up a chair. Holder walked heavily to it and sat down. He did not show any concern at all, but ap- peared at ease. Middleton looked at him keenly, and remembered that there were people who thought of Holder as a soulless lump of half-moistened clay, a fellow more or less born rich, as an oyster is born to its shell and scarcely of more human worth, a big, dull fellow, sluggishly concerned with food, sleep, and a big chair where he could idly watch people. But at that moment Middleton saw him heavy with an air of calm solidity. He seemed to have repose. There was un- deniable intelligence in his deep eyes. Neither regret for what he was about to lose nor alarm for what might happen touched him. He actually looked more in- terested than anything else, sitting there motionless, his bulky body filling the big chair as molten metal fills a mold. Middleton put his hand to the knob and leaned forward listening, but listening through the tips of his delicate fingers and tense to catch the infinitesimal jar of the falling tumblers. Then a woman’s voice: “Oh, why—Frank! IJI—I— much the matter?” The three men turned their heads as with one movement. Javotte was bloodless, frightened and distressed; she stood there in slippers and silken dressing-gown with an arm bare above the elbow as it reached up along the curtains she had parted. “TI thought I heard— Oh, Frank, what these men do here?”’ Middleton glanced at Holder. Their strained little farce was for him. He was both the audience and a player in it; but also alert and penetrating. His face seemed too unemotional to show anything. He struggled up out of the chair, moving awkwardly but with an unexpected rapidity, and went toward Javotte, who approached What is so 117 with fright on her face. She was playing a hypocrite’s réle, but the fear was genuine, intense, choking. Holder put out one of his big, heavy arms and she fell against it as against a limb of a tree. Always he spoke as if with effort, and he seemed to forget there were burglars in the room as he said— “Came back—un—hurried—to get back home.” “Oh I am—am—so—glad!”’ She told the lie, if it was a lie, with dif- ficulty. ‘‘But these——”’ Unen.”” He looked around, solidly, heavily. “Burglars.”’ It was as if he had been meeting burglars in his home every evening or so. Middleton, behind his mask, was smiling with amusement and something more than amusement. He wondered a little sar- donically just how much they were deceiving this fellow, if at all. He realized definitely that Holder himself was about the most deceptive person imaginable. “Un. My dear—” the heavy arm was still supporting her— ‘‘they won’t hurt any- thing. We'll just let ’em alone. You go back to bed.” She looked toward Middleton and begged for mercy with her eyes. “Pardon me,” said Middleton with his exasperating air of gentleness that had a wire edge of irony on it, “but I believe it would be better if Mrs. Holder remained. She might be tempted to use the telephone.” “Un-n,” said Holder thoughtfully. Then as if he had decided on what to do, he looked right at Middleton: ‘You fellows hurry—un-n—hurry—get out. The com- bination is—un—is—un-n se After a moment’s puzzlement he gave up the effort to remember and reached clumsily in his vest pocket for a note-book. ‘“‘No—no—no!” Javotte whispered pro- testingly, pulling at his arm. She might as well have pulled at an oak bough. “Un—yes, dear. Quickest way. Un-nh; let ’em get out.” Each word dropped heavily as a piece of water-soaked wood. He fumbled with clumsy, not nervous, fingers at the little book, then read slowly, without inflection, like a child spelling from a copy-book. With quick, sure, expert touches Mid- dleton followed the combination until the NOOK C©