Argosy, Vol. 117, No. 3 — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

THE Heavy was Satisfied. He didn’t even re- member entering that room—let alone what happened subsequently. He was rather proud of the fact that he had whipped the man with the knife. Six months later, Heavy Windover, driven by dire necessity, shuffled into the shop of Nicholas Feld. He had the dirty gray color of a man who had been hitting the bumps of life—and his clothing showed it, too. His right arm hung at his side. Nicholas Feld observed that the hand—the hand which had inflicted the ferocious slap —was gnarled and twisted. ‘The fingers were rigid and curled like the claw of an eagle that had died fighting. ; ‘““ Nick,” said Heavy, in the dull, dogged voice of a man brought down to distasteful things, ‘“‘ you and me never got along very well—but I’m up against it; I need help— and I don’t know where else to go.” Nicholas Feld could not keep his eyes off the hand. He inquired: ‘‘ What is it that you think I should do for you?” ‘““T need money—not much. I ain’t been able to work since this mitt went flooey on me.” He flung his arm upward and the useless hand lay on the showcase. The shopkeeper feasted his eyes upon the flesh that had once been so strong and which now was so pitifully helpless. ‘“ I’m goin’ to work next week,” Heavy went on. ‘“‘ Me and Jersey Mapes are goin’ to drag down on a ‘ job’ that don’t take much strength, and—” ‘“What should be the matter with your hand?” “You know what’s the matter with my hand,” Heavy replied with a trace of anger. “ All the boys know what’s the matter with it. You know I got in a fight—” 547 “And it will never be no good again?” “No. The doctor says the cord in the wrist was cut—and he couldn’t see how—” “And it never will be no good again, eh?” Heavy Windover thought Nicholas Feld smiled. He looked sharply at the shop- keeper, and saw-that he did smile. The burglar felt somehow—he didn’t know how —that Nicholas Feld was gloating. Rage overpowered him. | When the police came they found Heavy Windover astride the prostrate form of the shopkeeper. With the good left hand the burglar clutched ‘his throat; and furiously beat the cheeks of Nicholas Feld with the twisted hand. 3 The glass was broken out of the show- case. Both men were crying in a ferocious rage. At times Nicholas Feld wrenched the hand of the burglar away from his throat—-pouring out a stream of fierce in- vective. They dragged Heavy Windover away and locked him up. He had long been wanted. What had an honest shopkeeper to do with so notorious a burglar as Heavy Wind- over? The question was no more than asked than the police set out to find the answer. Bit by bit they uncovered Nicholas Feld’s manner of life and livelihood. They uncovered his mysterious route—and took in a choice collection of assorted crooks. Among them was Nicholas Feld. Among them were Ming Yuen and Bagg the Chink. It is doubtful whether the warden up- river knew that the carload of newcomers he received one morning were started on their journey by a slap in the face. SLAP. POPPY-FLAME FLASH of crimson poppies; A flame of poppy gold, A far faint note from a bronze bird’s throat, And from its shroudings cold, A love I thought lay buried, Arose and called my name. Yes, called aloud, from its grave-damp shroud, At flash of poppy-flame. t Cora Lapham Hazard. COMMUC NOOLKS (C@