Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 5, 1928 — page 88: what you’re looking at

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

654 “They were unable to get posses- sion of our stand legally, and they car- — ried us off so they could grab it ille- gally. It’s not us, but the stand they want.” “I begin to catch a glimmer.” “The platinum jeweler’s is right over our heads. ‘These fellows intend to rob the place. ‘They figure on enter- ing from our shop.” Chipmunk was on his feet. “‘ You've hit it!” he exclaimed. ‘“ It makes sense. That’s why they told us that we could go back to selling frankfurters after awhile. That's why we’re locked up. Say, if a piece of this stuff no bigger than a pea is worth a couple of dollars, a ton of it must be worth a million. Holy Moses, we’ve got the whole plot!” “You haven't got half of it yet,” declared Lester. ‘“‘ They bore a big hole in our ceiling, get in, and crack the safe. The police investigate and find that they entered from the frank- furter stand. ‘The detectives find out that you and [ are not the regular run of hot-dog men, we are college gradu- ates, intelligent fellows, at least they'll - think so. “ Aga matter of fact, we’re a couple of saps. And we have disappeared. Naturally they assume we went into the hot-dog business with intent to burglarize the platinum establishment. Do you follow me?” “T’m ahead of you!” exclaimed Chipmunk. “ They assume we are the thieves, and while they are searching for us the real crooks get away with the swag. In a few weeks we may be turned loose, and then the police jump on us. When we tell them we were kidnaped and locked up on an oil barge they'll say what oil barge, and we won't know. They'll railroad us to jail, that’s what they'll do.” “ You're not so dumb as I thought,” said his candid friend. “ That is the scheme and it’s a corker. These crooks take over our place, nobody notices a hot-dog man, and nobody will know 3 ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. the difference. When they are ready they'll loot the platinum jeweler’s and be just as safe as if they were in a church. “We are the scapegoats. The po- lice will be hot on our trail. Chip, we're in less danger while we’re locked up here than if we were free.” “Unless we can get loose in time to break ‘up the game. We’ve got to get out, Les.” “Of course! How?” “Well, we've got some money. Maybe we could bribe this captain.” “Qh, they'll go through our clothes pretty soon. And if they don’t, this skipper will take our money if he finds out we have any.” “If there was only a porthole we might attract attention.” “There isn’t,” said Lester grimly. Just the same we’re going to get out. My Lord, we've got to get out!” “Wait a minute. Suppose this is all poppycock? If they want our joint, why haven't they taken our key away from us?” “It’s an old-fashioned lock. They'll have no trouble getting in. We’ll have to try the old-fashioned trick of rush- ing this door when they open it to give us breakfast in the morning.” “T’m game for anything,” Chip- munk said bravely. “ We'll probably get filled full of lead, but I’d rather be shot than go to jail.” “This sitting around is horrible,” moaned Lester. “If we could only do something.” “Tf we only had a pack of cards. Say, did you ever play Elimination?” “That's what they’ve played on us.” “I mean the game. Suppose you think of something, anything in the world. All you have to tell me is whether it is animal, mineral, or vege- table, and allow me to ask twenty ques- tions. I'll get it, provided you answer truthfully.” “Tf you could guess how to get out of here!” erowled Lester who did not bear imprisonment sweetly. “Do you COPMICLOOOKS (C@)