Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 28, 1928 — page 19: what you’re looking at

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

THIEVES’ “ Chees’t,” he cautioned. The work stopped. This time there were two members of the party. “| thought I told you guys to come one at a time?” Nick spoke as trucu- lently as any captain. ““ Aw, these streets ’s as dead as—” “Well, take off your coats and pitch in there with Harry and Lefty. “We're going right through the rear wall.” After about an hour and a half of work Harry raised his voice? “My bar’s through.” “ Tlasy, then,” cautioned Nick. “ We don’t want to set that alarm going after all this trouble.” The men worked feverishly for a time, spelling each other at rapid inter- vals and then: “IT can squeeze through, I think.” * Wait,” objected Nick; “‘ that ’Il be my job. One of you—Harry, I guess— stand guard in this passageway.” Nick took off his coat, a garment from which he previously had removed every scrap of paper and identifying mark. Then, inserting his head, he be- gan to drag himself through the nar- row aperture. The bricks, jagged with hard mor- tar, scraped the back of his neck and pressed into his chest. Dust filled his nostrils and lungs so that he had to pause to stifle an impulse to sneeze. A few wriggles and he was through and standing upright in the blackness of the interior of the Conover Fur Com- pany’s workrooms. “Come on through, Resnic,”’ he ordered through the hole in the wall. “You gotta pick out the good stuff. There’s no use bothering with cheap skins.” Piled about him in an atmosphere redolent of strong disinfectants and less pleasant odors that spoke of thou- sands of lingering deaths in the woods of Canada, of Russia, of Asia, there were great mounds of dressed seal- skins; barrels filled with the tiny hides 2A o MARKET. 449 of gray squirrels; the furs of martens, of beavers, of black foxes. The real prizes were stored in a steel cabinet that offered only brief re- sistance to the pressure of the crow- bars passed into the building. “* Now, then, Resnic,” invited Nick, “you pass along the good stuff and I'll hand it outside.” “We'll make the first load a good one,” said Resnic, in a husky whine. “The stuff in this cabinet is mostly sable. On Fifth Avenue they would bring—” As he handied them Nick thought. from time to time of the women these soft pelts were destined to infold; and he thought of Korbeck. oa if he tries to gyp me on this deal, Nick fondled the butt of his auto- matic. It was sine o'clock in the morning before he tumbled into bed: All of his little gang of friends had agreed to meet him again on Sunday evening to assist m the further looting of the Conover establishment. Five times they had filled the auto- mobile with sacks of furs. Resnic had estimated that there were enough re- maining to fill the car twice more. “ To-night,” thought Nick, before he fell asleep, “ we'll finish the job.” But when night came only Harry, the electrician, and pockmarked John- ny kept the appointment on time. “Yellow?” inquired Nick, as Lefty and the other two strolled into his pool room late Sunday evening. “Yellow nothing,” retorted Lefty, in a tone that he hoped would make . an effective denial without going to the point of enraging Nick. “ Resnic says we got all the good stuff, and besides that nigger’s probably given an alarm.” “ Aw, that nigger ‘Il still be sleep- ing to-morrow morning, I bet you. But if the furs left aren’t worth much there is no need of going back. No use press- ing our luck. Gomichbook (E@) } ~ a ‘ : nie ‘ | 7 - f - ‘ait vie , : ' } , » ‘se k A ah Pi oe Sh A Hs