Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 19, 1924 — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

O12 and do things that six men couldn’t and soon as we get to the hangout I’ll get busy.” When, a few minutes later, Crawley steered the truck through the gates of a grass-grown drive, he began to chuckle. “ What’s the idea?” ventured Slim. “I was thinking of that nosey cop,” re- plied the chief. “‘ He’s been snooping about here more than was pleasant—for us. Now, he’s going to see all he wants and— it won’t do him a mite of good.” A little distance up a short incline, Craw- ley stopped the truck. Without a word from him, Slim and the others got out and the work of unloading began. Through the trees at the top of hill the roof of the boarded-up house, which had been the ob- ject of Bill’s suspicion, could be seen dark against the sky. It was not the house but a garage, partly built into the side of the hill, that gang made for. Bill had watched the house; he had walked all round it looking for marks of entry or exit. He had found none because none existed. Ever since the gang had taken possession, their chief had issued stringent orders that no one of them was to venture anywhere within a hundred foot circle of the house. There was no neces- sity for the breaking of these orders. A bricked, underground tunnel ran from the back of the garage to the basement of the house. “Take the girl into the garage, tie her up and dump the other two on the ground and bring that steel man over here. Care- ful how you carry him for he’s a delicate baby.” Crawley snapped out his orders and as- sisted the work of unloading with sarcastic comments on the slowness and clumsiness of his gang. Slim, as foreman of the out- fit and next in command to Crawley, ven- tured a few words of caution in an under- tone. ‘““T guess you know what you’re doing,” he said from the corner of his mouth, “ but why not load up with the stuff we’ve got in the house and get away from here. What with that cop we’ve got tied up; that other feller and his sister, we’re taking an awful chance. Better go easy with the boys, they’re all on edge and—” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, ‘And you're all rattled,” cried out Craw- ley, ‘“‘ Get that keyboard over here and I'll show you and the rest how to make that steel thing do tricks. He’s going to be our champion safe cracker. I know what I’m about.” Crawley voiced his opinions confidently enough, but back in his mind was the desire to prove to himself without delay that the steel man could really be controlled and made to work when removed from the vicinity of the barn. If it could, all would go well. He would have the gang eating out of his hand. If on the other hand that steel automaton would not respond—the thought worried Crawley and his ease. of mind did not improve. He glanced at the blurred faces of his followers as they came nearer in the wake of Slim. The light was too dim for Craw- ley clearly to distinguish the features of the band of silent watchers, but he was enough - of a leader to sense a surly antagonism. Slim placed the keyboard on the step of the truck. “Hold your light over it,” said Crawley and as the beam from Slim’s electric torch brought the keys of mysterious control into vivid clarity, Crawley gave a sidelong glance at the figures of Bill and Nick bound and hunched on the ground. ‘“ Turn your light on them fellers,’ he added and frowned with concentration as he stared at the two upturned faces. In the eyes of Bill Murray he read plain- ly enough, simple, unadulterated rage and defiance. In Nick’s—what? The gaze of the young inventor was altogether too calm for Crawley’s liking. The tightly drawn gag distorted Nick’s cheeks and gave him the appearance of grinning, but, was there not also a gleam of mockery in his eyes? Was it possible that the steel man would not work? Had Nick been claiming more for his invention than it could perform when he had stated that it could be controlled miles away from the source of power. Had he been bluffing? Promising himself the pleasure of vindic- tive revenge should it prove that he had been fooled, Crawley turned to the keyboard. All eyes followed his movements. Sus- pense and expectancy were expressed in ZA oO COMIC OO KS 5CO)