The Argosy, Vol. 82, No. 3 — page 163: what you’re looking at

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

MOVIE MEN could see the grounds. Placing his head alongside the window pane he looked side- ways, and caught a glimpse of Marion and Burton standing together. He could also see Hadley, but no one else. Evidently Trent was still playing his game, for Marion, Burton, and the butler seemed to be watching with interest. Grayson breathed a sigh of relief. Trent then had not discovered his absence. But in this Grayson was wrong. Trent had missed the supposed movie actor, and when he did not return believed he had gone to the house and had been overpowered by the three confederates. Trent was playing the game for all it was worth. As soon as he heard two blasts from the confederates’ machine going down the road at the back of the house, it would be time to make his adieux, and he meant to do this gracefully and without trouble if possible. Grayson suddenly turned from the win- dow. Again he had heard a noise at the door. There was no doubt of it now, some one was standing outside. The phone caught his eye. Reaching over he grabbed it. and placed it care- fully underneath the table, out of sight. He knew the crooks would come to ran- sack the library. One thing he resolved: they would not get out of the house if he could help it. He had not long to wait, for suddenly the library door flew open and two men stood on the threshold! At sight of Grayson they stopped. Un- doubtedly his presence was unexpected, and, from the expressions on their faces, more than unwelcome. Bob waited, eying the two and taking their measure. One was a burly fellow, -the other short and stocky. Both of them appeared to be tough customers. The big fellow had whipped out a re- volver. Slowly he advanced into the room. Deliberately he covered Grayson. “T’row up yer hands!” he growled. Slowly Bob raised his arms. “Soich this dude, Red.”’ Red advanced and fumbled about Gray- son’s pockets. For a second Bob’s arms wavered. He felt like taking the scoundrel by the throat. “Keep up de hands!” roared Red’s pal. Red passed his hands swiftly into all of Grayson’s pockets, removing his watch and wallet, which he handed to his companion with a grin. FOR A_ DAY. 537 “No smoke-wagon, Buck,” Red an- nounced; ‘‘not even a knife.” “Tf it’s all the same to you,” Grayson said, addressing the individual who was known as Buck, “I’d prefer dropping my hands. I have no gun and would like to know what you want here?” The big fellow guffawed. ‘Can dat stuff, bo,” he said, poking Red in the ribs. ‘Did yuh get it, Red? The dude asked yuh a queshon?” Red grinned. He enjoyed the situation, or perhaps made believe he did, to humor Buck, whom he seemed to fear. ‘And what cha doin’ here yerself?” de- manded Buck. ‘Live here,” lied Grayson. ‘‘Had fallen asleep in that chair when I heard you out- side the door.” ‘““Dat’s a lot of noise,” cried Buck, point- ing a finger at Bob. ‘“You’re de guy we heard sneaking along de hall and we didn’t know de room yuh had gone inter. Hey, what cha doin’ wit dat stuff on yer face and eye?” he suddenly demanded. At Buck’s words Red took another look at Grayson. Both of them suddenly real- ized he was made up. Bob could not repress a smile. He had forgotten the part he was playing, and hugely enjoyed the expressions of astonish- ment on the faces of the two thugs. Before he had a chance to answer, Red, whose ferret-like eyes had been roaming about the room, spied the telephone under the table. ‘Give a look, Buck,” he cried, “dis guy has put one over on us. Dese wires is on to er private phone.” Buck’s eye followed the direction of Red’s finger. For a second his pal’s warn- ing had distracted him, and in that second Grayson acted. Swinging around he planted his right fist on Red’s jaw with such force that the fel- low sank to the floor without a sound. With a growl Buck sprang for Bob. The thug was a bigger and heavier man than Grayson, but not so quick, and like men of his type slow at thinking. Grayson’s one object was to get the gun. He knew Buck was desperate but would not shoot for fear of attracting the crowd on the grounds. But at that Grayson was tak- ing no chances. As Buck rushed him he side-stepped, grabbed his right arm and shoved it up- wards with a quick stroke. The trick COPMICLOOOKS (@)