Adventure Magazine, December 10, 1924 — page 45: what you’re looking at

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

The Blond Spiders butt of his gun, Bodiker jumped about two feet in the air with a squawk of fright, and something fell squirming at his feet. “Bruvver of yours trying ter kiss yer,” was Plessons’ tart expanation as he pointed to a writhing, headless black mamba on the ground. “Oh, good God!” breathed Bodiker, hurriedly stepping away. “I— You quite startled me!”’ “TDidn’t yer ma learn yer ter s’y grice arter supper?”’ demanded Plessons acidly. Bodiker, sitting down on another root gingerly, stared at him. Sawyer scowled, but returned to his attempt to hypnotize the belt. “T don’t understand.”’ “Thought a fella would s’y, ‘Thanks’ if another bloke saived his life—not that it mat- ters,y’know. Allusmaiking mistaikes,I[ am.” “Oh, thanks!” said Bodiker, flushing. Just then Sawyer sat up on his hunkers as if coming out of a trance. “Oh, can that bull!’ he growled. He paused, had another look at the belt; seemed to steady himself and said: “See here, Mr. Westlake, how about them di’monds?” At the words there was a visible tautening of nerves and sinews a! around. “Sure,” assented Tony quietly and aimiably. ‘When we get back we'll find out who are the heirs of our German friend and hand them over to them, of course. Don’t you-——”’ ™ “WHAT’S that?” ) NI The words were a hoarse scream aw of rage much as a wounded gorilla might be supposed to utter, stoppered in the dank gloom of the forest by the interwoven branches and parasitic creepers which shut out the sun. Sawyer had sprung to his feet, forgetting his gun, for he was by nature a “‘strong-arm”’ man; his powerful arms were curved and his bull head lowered; the small eyes were blood- shot with passion; sweat dripped from his chin. “Y-you’re crazy, you ——!” He straightened up as if slapped in the face as the blue muzzle of Tony’s revolver peeked up at him. “You say that again, Sawyer, without smiling and— Get.me?”’ Sawyer choked, swallowed and dashed sweat out of his eyes. 23 “You— I—” he spluttered. “You’re crazy! What’re you giving us anyway? It’s as much Alick’s as yours and—we won’t stand for it.” “T said,”’ repeated Tony, sliding the gun into the holster, ‘“‘that these diamonds don’t belong tous. They belong to the man who found them. That’s what I said, and that’s all there is to it.” “But ye’re bughouse, ye’re crazy!’’ re- commenced Sawyer, who was rocking his great bulk from one foot to the other like an elephant with the toothache. ‘We took it off him ee ‘‘T did,” reminded Tony, ‘and incidentally saved your lives.” “You’re dippy. Ain’t hea boche? What The “‘What’s that got to do with it? war’s over.” “Listen, Phil,’ began Bodiker, the peace- maker. ‘Tony’s right. And anyway we'll get plenty ——” ‘““You shut yer head! A backhanded swipe with the right arm knocked Bodiker off his root. “See here, Dutchy,” he snarled, wiping blood from his mouth as he scrambled up, “T’ll put you back in the pen for this, yor “You, yer long —— runt! That’s where you oughta been if yer hadn’t planted it on me, yer dirty Think I did near two year fer a lousy five thousand while you was rubbering round wit’ all the swell Janes on Broadway? Guess ye’re got another think coming! And now yer want ter let this bird get away wit’ that raw stuff! You keep yer face shut!” Then ina fresh access of anger: “If yer spit another word [’ll spiiivthe beans and let yer buddys know what = “Shut up! Oh, shut up!” squealed Bodiker, not in rage but in terror. “For God’s sake, Phil!’ His eyes shuttled wildly between Tony and Sawyer. “See here, Phil,” he continued whee- dlingly, ‘‘you’re all shot to pieces. You don’t know what you’re saying. Come outside—I mean over there—and [ll ex- plain what Mr. Westlake means.” Sawyer’s eyes, still smoldering, glanced doubtfully at Tony and Plessons, hands resting slightly on their ready guns. Slowly he turned toward Bodiker. “All right,” said he, ‘and I’m going ter Ghook Wy) CO © 5}