Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

JUNGLE LOVE. compendium of knowledge of good and evil. Basic, elemental endowments aside, a new-born child is a white page. Some are of good quality, others of poorer stuff; but they are all as clear and ready for*impres- ‘sions aS an unexposed photographic nega- tive. After our baby’s first glint of per- ceptivity, which is in all probability a re- sponse to the warmth of its mother’s breast, come two tiny trickling streams of good and bad impressions. The streams swell to riv- ers and rivers to torrents. Some of these are beneficial, swift flowing, but clear and pure. Others, quite as rapid and fluid flow- ing, are muddied and defiled. Circum- stance dictates which ¢:ream shall more greatly flow through the child’s mind. Flippant Miss Blonde had sown her tiny seed. Cunning Artie tended its growth for what he believed were designs entirely with- in his own control. He was maliciously meddling, and there is no more abysmally self-deluded fool than the one who under- estimates or thinks to dodge the rebound of evil intentions and deeds. The written laws, bound in calf-skin, are fixed and complex. The unwritten law iS fluid and simple. Persistent sowing of good seed in good fields means a good harvest. Scatter rotten seed and reap disaster. In the ultimate a_good cause always results in a good effect. To the casual eye, one dol- lar looks as good as another, and one plus one make two. They do, according to the adding-machine; but the power value af a paper dollar is not confined to exchange for silver, nickel, bronze, and goods. It has a potential influence upon its possessor which is unalienably attached to the good or bad. effort expended in attaining it. Thus: one honestly earned dollar plus one dishonestly obtained dollar do not, whatever the ma- chine may record, make two dollars of equal, potential vatue. So far—is enough. Asid from other money in his posses- sion, Artie had twelve dollars in his hip- pocket and one two-dollar bill he had, in a whim of forethoughtful, impish malice, put for safe-keeping in his vest pocket. Four- teen dollars that he had stolen from Julie’s bag. Representative to him for so much extra for drinks, cigarettes or petty graft. 403 Fourteen bucks! Good, Federal notes: yet one two-dollar bill was the symbol of his death warrant. When Sid, hoggishly pompous, fatiy pa- tronizing lowered his flabby bulk onto the chair kept engaged for him by Artie, he listened to a merry~tale. Hellion sparks of interest flickered in Sid’s cold, crook-know- ing, small eyes; but he said little. “It’s a cinch, a walk over,” concluded .. Artie after he had dilated on Julie’s physi- cal charms. through. No folks. I ain’t got no use for her, but—” For a long moment Sid’s fishy, impla- cable eyes considered the younger black- guard’s face. ‘ All right,” he grunted at last. ‘ May- be I'll happen along to-morrow. ‘You know what to do. What? Your bit. That 1 be all right. You know me!” After paying for a drink, Sid, the un- nameable in further fitting title, waddled over to a table surrounded by the pink of underworld professionals. Artie was left alone, but not for long. A woman took the chair vacated by Sid. ' Artie gazed at her wonderingly. “Wanna drink, Leila?” he asked. “Not with you, you—no, I don’t mean anything. Take no notice of me for a while. I’m, all upset. C'est plus forte que moi. I want to talk to you. Ill buy.” Artie nodded. He was not at all partic- ular who paid for his drinks or where the money came from. The woman’s agitation and suppressed excitement didn’t bother “She’s a simp through and — him one whit; but the phrase she had used . roused his instinct of suspicion. ‘What was that you said? Why can’t you talk plain lingo? Not that foreign stuff. You ain’t French anyhow, and . what’s good enough for me’s good enough. for you. Give it in Engli “I only said: it ts stronger than IJ, that’s | all. »? “What? The booze?” Unutterable disgust flamed in Leila’s lowered eyes, but she kept a tight leash on her tongue. “No,” she said, “I was thinking about that girl. I have been here all evening. Where is she?” GOMLGDOO (CO