Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 19, 1924 — page 101: what you’re looking at

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

ra THE DECOY. he was chewing. Putter made up his mind, set a broad thumb upon the door latch and briskly entered the little shop. Both oc- cupants looked up as he strode down the marrow aisle between the long show cases. “IT want—” he boomed, and was surpris- ingly interrupted. One of the men whirled about, and in one @ichtning motion dropped a tray of watches he was appraising and flashed a beneath his left arm pit. “Stick ’em up, you—’ he squealed. gun from “ Ouick and high!” James Putter was not a fast thinker, and he was never more astonished in his life than by this greeting to a customer ready and anxious to spend real money. None the less, his muscles acted automatically without waiting for orders from the slower brain. Up went his arms; and they went high. Directly above his head was a modern globe with a very big gas mantle, which furnished a mellow but sufficient light for the place. In hoisting his hands, the left one swept this globe from its moorings in a shower of broken china and glass. In- stantly, profound darkness embraced them. Door and window were alone faintly indi- cated by a street lamp some thirty yards distant. Almost with the crash a gun barked, and something passed so close to James Putter’s cheek that he felt the breath of it even as it splintered the transom of the door. Again, his faithful muscles acted without volition as he dropped to his hands and knees. Then, anxious only to get away, he awkwardly yet swiftly scrambled down the aisle on all fours, conscious of oaths and cries behind him, and, worse yet, of groping steps in pursuit. His left hand was wet with blood where the glass had cut it as he smashed the lamp. His right was damp with sweat as he tremblingly found the door latch and tore at it. In his excitement, he set the catch, and it would not open. He wrenched frantically at it; then, his invisible pursuer hard upon him, he wheeled about, still crouched low to avoid exposing himself against the faint glow on the glass panels of the door. The slighter man, seeking to escape, stumbled ov over the great hulk of Putter, uttered a final soul-searing oath, and sprawled full length. Upon him fell two hundred and twenty pounds of solid meat. In the few seconds which had elapsed since the light went out, several other things were also taking place. Moe Gordon, busi- ness mastering terror, had groped for and found his desk phone and was calling police headquarters. The skulking figure which Putter had abstractedly observed outside leaped into action with the sound of the first and only shot, and thrust itself against the door. But the same mischance which kept Putter in, held him out; and he was still yanking the latch when the night stick of Lieutenant Reilly wafted him to sweet dreams of boundless wealth hoarded in ancient cheese-box safes. Two men who, with Reilly, had been watching the place for some time before Putter appeared, pro- duced pocket torches, nonchalantly kicked in a glass panel, and sprang the catch. Moe Gordon appeared from the rear of his store With an emergency lamp which he was obliged to clutch with both trembling hands. James Putter rose from the floor, drag- ging up with him the figure of a limp, hand- cuffed creature whose lungs had been flat- tired when the Keene agent fell atop him. IIL. ROBERT KEENE read for the second time the painstaking report which reached him the following morning. Of course, he had been advised of the facts by telephone the night before; nevertheless he found that the report, dictated to Min, the hotel sten- ographer by Mr. James Putter, threw as it were a new light upon these facts. It read: Arrived Midville 2.31 p.m. Registered at Mansion House, then set out to get low-down on jewelry shops listed on map furnished whea I got assignment. This took most of after- noon. The only suspicious thing I found was at Moe Gordon’s, 117 Depot Street, where him and another man who claimed he was buying Gordon out was figuring stock. This bird didn't look right to me. I never saw him before, but seen*his kind too-often to be fooled. Met Lieutenant Reilly of local force, but decided to play out hunch alone. Eomichooks (S@)