Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 2 — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

192 quick curtains for Bull McArdle whenever Mike was worked up enough to try a punch at the fake Australian. On the tenth day Cassidy and I held a council of war while Mike was out on the road. ‘“T been thinkin’,” said Cassidy, “ that maybe we been goin’ too far with this stuff.” “How so?” I asked him. “ Well,” Cassidy said, “ even an iron man like Mike can’t lose only a certain amount of sleep without goin’ bad altogether. An- other week of this and Mike will be ready for one of two things—the bug-house or the cemetery.” “You don’t care,” I told him. “JT don’t—in a way,” admitted Cassidy, “but, if Mike’s goin’ to get cured of his fool fear of professional fighters, there’s no use of havin’ him drop dead on us imme- diately after.” “What do you suggest?” I inquired. “T was thinkin’,” said Cassidy, “ that as long as Mike don’t show any desire to go in and fight McArdle, we’d better get McArdle in to fight Mike.” “ That’s a good idea,” I told him. “We'll do it to-morrow,” said Cassidy, “Just let McArdle come into our place, call Mike a few names and make a swing at him. Ill guarantee Mike ’l] do the rest.” “Vouwre on,” I told him. “T'll have McArdle in right after breakfast.”’ In order that Mike might be at his grouchiest the next mornin’ Cassidy and De Foe drove him like a dog all that day. Also, I assembled my goofers, told them what was comin’ off and notified them that they were expected to raise more racket that night than they’d ever done before. “We'll let Regan sleep for about an hour,” I told them, “ then we’ll start in with the noise. We're not to let him sleep a wink—all the rest of the night. His nerves have got to be absolutely raw, he’s got to be wild enough to commit murder in the mornin’.” That night the lights went out next door about nine o’clock, At a quarter after ten I got my gang together and gave orders to commence firin’. In a second our bunga- low was wabblin’ around on its foundations. Oe THE ARGOSY. We pounded and yelled and screeched like never before. A minute later the light went up in the second-story room next door where Mike Regan slept. I signaled my gang to quiet down a little and peeped out through the blinds. Mike was at his bedroom window. His eyes were blinkin’ from lack of sleep and shinin’ with anger. His face was workin’ in a way that almost scared me. He was shakin’ his big fists at our shack and yellin’ at the top of his voice. “T can’t stand dis!” he was sayin’, “TI can’t stand it no more! I got to sleep! I got to sleep, I say! Shut up dere!” he shouted. “ Shut up, or PH—” What he’d do if we didn’t shut up I couldn’t hear, for I waved my hand, nodded my head and my gang began cuttin’ up ructions again. I thought they’d raise the roof. Our little bungalow was shakin’ like from an earthquake. The yells and shouts of my gunmen were terrible to hear. Mike Regan stood at his window for a few seconds, shakin’ his fists and screechin’. If it hadn’t been that we were doin’ it all for his own good I’d have been almost sorry for him. Then he suddenly disappeared from the window. A few seconds later there was a crash from the front of our house that sounded above all the noise we were makin’. The gang heard it and stopped screechin’ and poundin’. “Go ahead—keep it up!” I yelled at them, and the noise started once -more. And then suddenly the door of the back room we were in fell from its hinges and from the wreck of it leaped a queer, terri- fyin’ figger. It was Mike Regan, his black hair standin’ out wild in all directions, his eyes burnin’ like coals, his big hairy chest heavin’, his long, thick arms wavin’ like a busted windmill. His only garment was the pants part of a suit of purple pajamas and his feet were bare. Behind him came Cassidy and De Foe, both in their night clothes. Mike stood for a second after scramblin’ — to his feet, gazin’ into the room like the light hurt his eyes. Then his hairy chest swelled as he drew a long breath and from his lips came a wild roar. f Gomichoo (E@)