Adventure Magazine Cover — page 141: what you’re looking at

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

Men of the Night The warning was not needed; for about the only sound that Burillo was likely to make was such as might result from the falling of his body, since his knees threatened to give way. He was scared, as any man might have been, but a little more than most. He not only lacked a certain natural bravery, but had many fears hovering about him; and this masked fellow from whom he had tried to steal Javotte’s diamonds was intensely disquieting. “The last time we had the pleasure of meeting,” said Middleton, ironically gentle, almost reproachful, ‘you left in a hurry. Now I have come for my share of those trinkets.” . “W’y—I—eah—”’ said Burillo. For the first time it was occurring to him that possibly he had been robbed that night by some one who was not a pal of the black masker’s. “Yes. I understand why you feel that way about it. Very regretful, are you not?” “But I was robbed!” ‘fAh,” said Middleton; “‘so was I.” ““But—but—look!”’ He put the fingers of both hands to the bruise on the side of his forehead. “Unconvincing. You should have made yourself a better alibi than that.” “But it zs true. Right outside the house. Hones’!”’ “What was that?’ Middleton asked smoothly. ‘““Hones’, I say.” “T see.. Get into your coat there. Bundle up. Weare going for a little ride.” Burillo had had the ague coming on from the moment he saw the black mask reflected in the mirror from over his shoul- der; but the full force of the shaking chill caught him then. It was bad enough for this fellow to have appeared; it was worse for him not to believe the jewels had been stolen; it was terrible for him to drag Burillo out at that time of night to some sort of revenge. Burillo shook. He could hardly speak even if he could have thought of something to say; but his wits seemed frightened into a flutter. 3 ‘“‘Ah,” said the cool, polite voice of the ironic Middleton, ‘“‘you too seem to have caught cold from that draft I made this evening. Into your overcoat.” Burillo begged. He promised. He lied. 131 He desperately did everything he could to get a little mercy. He insisted that he did not have the diamonds. He offered every- thing he had, and all that he expected to get. It was scarcely an effort for him to offer so much since, whatever his intentions at the time, he would never have taken the trouble to do as he said. He seemed to think Middleton was angry over the diamonds, and he grew fervid in pleading to be believed; but the mask watched him coldly, -listening indifferently. His only answer was a gesture toward the overcoat. ‘“‘What—what can I do to make you be- lieve me?” “Nothing.” Burillo moaned, begging to know what would be done with him. Middleton answered— 3 “T know where the Holder diamonds have been pawned.”’ “What?” , Burillo’s.jaw hung open as if he were trying to catch words with his mouth. “I say, 1t is nothing more than right that I should go after them, and perhaps it isn’t difficult for you to guess why I wish to keep my eye on you.” “T don’t get you,” said Burillo blankly. “There is no need that you should,” Middleton replied. Burillo struggled hard to understand. His eves had a glazed expression, the absent-minded look of one who is thinking hard and without success. Middleton let him think, for Middleton had the assurance of one who has all the time in the world - and is never hurried. Anyway fussy, busy people waste their time and themselves in a sort of frantic scampering. A half minute. A full minute. In the long silence there was scarcely a moment; ‘then as Burillo reluctantly started across the room toward his coat there came a gentle insistent tap-tapping on the door. On the lightest of tiptoes Middleton moved to the door, at the same time ges- turing for Burillo to open it. All doors open inward, and whoever stands behind them is sheltered, concealed, from the party entering; a little arrangement that every night worker often takes advantage oi. Burillo’s voice shook. All of his nerves were unsteady. He asked— “Who is it?” The handle turned. The door was not NOOK C@