Adventure Magazine Cover — page 129: what you’re looking at

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

Men of the Night knows his business; and Silkeen’s automatic ie se a blackjack alongside of the fellow’s ead. Silkeen was quick as any animal, and his instinct was faster than thought; his cruelty so complete as to be’ unconscious. With the rapid, sensitive, searching move- ments of one who has gone through pockets when seconds counted like hours in his life, the half-dead man was ransacked from arm- pits to the top of his socks—there are so many little ways that cunning people try to outwit the highwayman—and everything movable on him was carried off. “Hope dat guy don’t croak,” said Silkeen to his friend Billy the Dude as they sat together over a bottle of beer in Silkeen’s kitchen, while Jerry sliced cold meat and bread. ‘‘ ’Cause maybe he’d like ter know how it feels t’ be cleaned right!’’. XV eH SILKEEN’S apartment was not far from the Wellington-Dane and con- veniently near the garage where many of the cars in the neighborhood were kept. He spent much of his time in the apartment, scarcely ever stirring out ex- cept at night. Billy the Dude threw the newspaper, enormous heads and all, from him and swung around jubilantly toward Silkeen. “Say, *£ I was de district attorney I’d tie a tin can to my tail an’ chase meself clear over to Brooklyn. I’d git off de map. Sure.” Silkeen was broodingly uninterested. He drew deeply on his cigaret and exhaled slowly. The carpet under his feet was dirty and littered with butts, discarded and tramped out. He was fastidious about his personal appearance; not so much the fop as Billy, but neat and careful; and usually he seemed to have a little pride in his apart- ment—but not when Dolly was away. He was more interested in his own troubles than in Cabron’s escape. The district attorney’s office now knew that Cabron had used it as a cat’s-paw. Too much and too watchful pressure was being exerted to keep Cabron from hoping to get a quick parole; but he had managed to escape in the very act of seeming to serve the law. He had murderously effected his escape on the eve of taking the stand against his former associates—or rather of pre- I1Q tending to be about to take the stand. “Funny,” said Silkeen without interest and scarcely moving his lips. ‘“‘Misser Mid’ton pulls dat name on me two ’r t’ree times las’ few weeks.” Billy the Dude drew a silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his snug-tailored coat and deliberately wafted the kerchief across the polished tip of first one then the other shoe. After that he wrinkled his nose a time or two with a monkey-like grimace, and, cocking an eye, stared at Silkeen. “Say, when youse try to use brains, Silkeen, youse pulls a boner. You’d better jump back in de cradle an’ yell f’r somebody ter pin diapers on you’self, see?’’ “W’at’s eatin’ you?” “Me? Not’in’s eatin’ me. de cracked coco.” “Awright. Gwan. Spill it.” Silkeen scowled, tramped on a _ half- burned cigaret and lighted another, sucking hard and swelling his thin chest with smoke as he eyed the little dude. ““Gwan,” he repeated. you don’t.” With a gesture of palm out and speaking from lips twisted almost to one side of his face by way of emphasis and contempt for any other facts than those he was presenting, Billy answered: ‘Take it fr’m-me, bo, them dagoes knowed It’s youse wit’ “Vouse’ll bus’ if who dey was after an’ why. Yea-ah. A -~ chive ain’t like a gat. Youse have to git close enough to a fellow ter see ’em ’fore youse han’ him his ticket wit’ ‘ ” wrote on ’t. But if a guy blows off a rod maybe it ain’t de right feller at-tall dat does de long flop. Maybe it’s somebody else youse never meant to pot. “But wit? a chive— Say, an’ youse didn’t git wise to de way Misser Middleton run in Cabron’s name. Jus’ so easy an’ gentle like he never t’ought o’ Cabron be- fore. "Member? An’ out to Holder’s dat night—don’t he go right up to git an earful when I tells ’im dey’ve got dat dago’s name in de air? See?” : Silkeen stared from the corners of his narrow, slanting eyes—eyes black as little specks of midnight, as impenetrable. Then he yawned and stretched himself, cat-like. ‘““Youse bug-house,” he said, and lighted another cigaret. “Me? Say. Listen. Do youse know who was in de nex’ room wit’ me listenin’ NOOK C@