Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 12, 1927 — page 60: what you’re looking at

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

4 Rye aie , te % f t By HULBERT FOOTNER Author of ** The Under Dogs,’ ‘‘Madame Storey in the Toils,’’ ete. WHAT HAS OCCURRED IN PART I WN all her life as the “ twenty-million-dollar-baby ” because her parents died and left that neat sum in trust through Attorney Minturn, Carola Goadby had found life insufferably dull and sickeningly sweet; so, on her twenty-first birthday she discharged all her servants and chaperons that represented her caged existence, and started in quest of excitement. She retained her bodyguard, McQuissick, who exposed Minturn’s attempt to get power of attorney over her money. Breaking with Minturn, she asked the advice of a cheap little lawyer, A. Zuckert, who was honest— though misguided—and who turned her over to the only man of importance he knew—Marcus Breedon. Breedon was the hidden power in the highest circles of theatricals, sports, gambling, restau- rants, night clubs, and such. He counseled Carola to check up Minturn’s report of her securities, deposit them and draw the interest, and let herself be guided by him. Earlier in the day Breedon had engaged on his enormous staff of diversified retainers one Len Farley, recently of Sing Sing, a powerfully built, handsome, dare-devil sort of chap, to dance with rich ladies at the Elysia Night Club . . . Carola rode home feeling happy at her independence and at the friendship of such a prominent individual. When she alighted from the taxi a group of men rushed at her. CHAPTER VI (Continued ). pointed their boxes at her. Some ran up the steps of the house; some even dived between the legs of the others to get a point AROLA was frightened half out of of vantage. her wits. They were armed with They were as quick as insects. With a clumsy looking boxes and long tri- terrified glance around her, Carola ran up pods that they managed with extraordinary the steps and beat on the door with her dexterity. They planted their tripods and fists. She had no latchkey. Fortunately This story began in the Argosy-Allstory Weekly for November 5. 534 IN THE HANDS OF THE LION. COPMICLOOOKS