Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

214 hook-nosed man puffing so that the gag threatened to strangle him; but shortly he was walking upstairs, outraged and wild eyed, wabbling on legs left free so he could travel to the cab Steve covered the man’s shoulders with an old blanket and preceded the others up the steps. He opened the door from the cellar and passed through, intending to. hold it open; but he shut it swiftly. Two slouchy men were talking to Paula, whose face was alive with apprehension. Both turned toward Steve. One was of fair size; the other was short and weasel- faced. His slack mouth sagged when he saw the cattleman. “Who's this guy?” he yelped. For an instant the cattleman wished he still had his pistol, which he had tossed back into the vase long ago. His plans were going glimmering. The smaller man was the slim-faced fellow of the tumble- down house where Steve was robbed! Quickly, striving to do the right thing on very short notice, the rancher braced himself against the door. The larger of the two men stepped forward. ‘What have you got there, eh?” “Never mind!” Steve spread himself in front of the panels. ‘“ This happens to be a private home!” “Yeh!” shrilled the smaller man, who had recognized Steve. “ But what are you doin’ here?” His voice arose. “It’s a plant! A trick!” Paula thought she saw a way to avert the storm. “He’s my brother!” she explained. “Your brother?” The slim-faced man looked from Paula to Steve as his face twisted in a sardonic grin. ‘“ Your brother! Ha-ha! Old stuff! And we thought you had class!” Paula caught her breath. Steve jumped forward with all his weight. He swung a vehement right fist that knocked the fel- low sprawling agairist the front wall. Steve followed up, standing over him. “Tf my sister has a guardian here, it’s because you crooks have stolen what be- longs to her,” said the cattleman very slow- ly. “Never mind your insults; you're built that way; you don’t know any bet- - *, 2 = ~ : ~ ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ter; you can’t apologize because it doesn’t mean anything. Where’s that money you took from me?” ee “You lie!”’ snarled the prone crook from habit. The other man had not helped his pal. Steve saw him sneak toward the rear door, which he shoved inward slightly. The door bulged outward and carried him with it as Slim wriggled his long body through. The other man recoiled. He yelled to Paula: “Who are these fellows? What is this? A trap, eh? You traitor! You traitor! Stuffin’ your house full of cops, eh?” “No!’’ cried Paula. The man shook a bony fist under her chin. “You fly moll — you four-flusher with the Ritzy front—if you’ve double-crossed us, we'll knock you so far that—”’ Slim grabbed his wrist. The man be- came desperate. He jumped aside, twist- ed, won free, calculated for one short in- stant, and slid for the exit. Slim went after him like a football tackler with both arms outstretched. The fugitive hurdled his arms by a wild leap, opened the door, and rushed outside. The door collided with Slim. Slim bounced against Steve, who was watching the thin- faced fellow. Steve instantly shoved Slim aside. “Grab the little man!” ordered Steve over his shoulder. ‘“ Stuff him into the cab with the man downstairs! Get out of town! ‘Treat ’em rough! Never mind me! Hurry!” Steve tore past the doorway and down the steps. He saw his quarry streaking along the street toward a lamp-post and past it. He started in pursuit. The other raced around a corner. So did Steve. He chased the man downhill toward a street with car tracks, A street car rumbled to the crossing, all lights lit. The fugitive dodged in front of it and gained safety by a thin margin. Steve had to wait until it passed; and then he saw the other speed- ing farther down hill. Steve halted, pant- ing. ‘Well, he’ll never know where the cab went, anyhow!” soliloquized the cattleman. 200! Eomic cS com