The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

64 and stretching his cramped limbs, a motor- car came up the avenue from the south, slowed up, and stopped just below his perch. The driver blew four short blasts on his horn, then started up again and disap- peared around the Fort George circle. Delroy chuckled softly and crept for- ward, feeling his way over the treacherous rocks as they led down the steep embank- ment. Presently he found secure lodg- ment upon a projecting boulder, and upon peering intently into the shadows of the west side of the avenue he discovered a man standing on the sidewalk, leaning against the wall of rock and contemplat- ing the shooting gallery opposite. For a long time he watched him and for a long time the man moved no more than a statue. Lights went out in the beer gardens and movie palaces, and people straggled away to their down-town homes. Delroy grew weary and lowered himself noiselessly to a sitting posture. The man moved, but only to change his position, and time went on again. Delroy could not strike a match to look at his watch, but after an unconscionable time he calculated that it must be nearing one o'clock. A policeman strolled down the avenue, and the waiting man crouched low in the shadows and eluded his unsuspecting eye, then resumed his position and went on with the stoical vigil. The street-cars ceased to pass except at long intervals, and the night grew so still that Delroy, thoroughly tired and chilled to the bone, heard a clock from some Bronx steeple and _ was not surprised when it struck twice. All at once the man, as though acting by method rather than impulse, started forward deliberately and crossed the ave- nue to the shooting gallery. He stood boldly on the walk in front of it and calmly inspected its exterior, and as Del- roy, leaning forward, breathlessly watched his every movement, he stepped into the dark doorway at the corner of the build- ing and disappeared. Delroy waited but a moment before he THE ARGOSY, hastened to make the space between him and the scene of possible action less. He slid down from his rock and descended to the avenue level by a process of tumbling and sliding, then darted to the opposite ~ side and crept cautiously to the corner doorway. He listened for the sound of breathing, and when he felt certain that his man had gone beyond the orbit of the door, he too entered the dark vestibule and explored. The outer door was no longer in use; it was there, but it sagged from its hinges in a dilapidated condition. Across the four or five foot vestibule, however, was a new door of stout boards. Delroy tried it and it opened readily, showing more darkness beyond. The latch played freely and it seemed probable that the lock was in good condi- tion and had been undone by the previous intruder with the help of one of those keys to which all locks are alike. His reflections were brought to an end suddenly. There was the sound of a door bursting open somewhere above him, a startled cry, a confusion of excited voices, and then the clatter and rumble of an en- counter amid overturning furniture. Delroy, with his heart pounding, struck a match and saw a rickety staircase rising before him as he pushed the door open. The place and the situation were not in- viting, but he had a desperate project to spur him, and he felt that for the moment the participants in the affair above were too absorbingly occupied to resent or pay much heed to an intrusion. He tore off his long coat and dropped it at the foot of the stairs, gripped his stick, and mounted the steps resolutely. At the top he turned a corner, guided by the unceasing noise and a dim glow of light, and in a squalid room, with its dust” and grime illuminated by a smoky oil lamp, he saw three men tumbling on the floor. As he stood gasping with excite- ment on the threshold one of the com- batants fell free and lay senseless. It was a dark-skinned, poorly dressed man whom he had never seen before. ECOMMICGLOOKS (C@)