Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 27, 1925 — page 51: what you’re looking at

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

CROOKS WELCOME. ‘‘ Better take that bag o - fore he smothers on us” he ans we don’t want him to die on our hands before we can cash in on him.” . Aw, he'll start talking us dizzy,” com- plained the one called Paul. Nevertheless he untied the gag and then removed the bag from the prisoner’s head. While the men dragged him to a sitting position on a kitchen chair and locked a leg-iron around his ankle, Monty blinked owlishly in the sudden light. Evidently he was in the cabin of some sort of craft. Its square and clumsy in- terior lines and complete lack of portholes suggested that it was a barge or canal boat. A certain amount of furnishing gave it the appearance of a crude houseboat with very low ceiling. There was a tiny window on either side, but these were covered by metal sheets fastened over the outer side. Three bunks were arranged one above the other at one side or end of the cabin. Monty’s leg chain was attached to the bunk stanchion. In the room were a deal table and a few chairs. The man pushed the table up to Monty. On it was writing paper. “Here, you write as I dictate,” com- manded the leader, producing a fountain pen. To his companion he added: “ Undo his hands, Paul. He can’t write with ’em tied.” “Write as I tell you,” repeated the chief, pushing his pen toward Monty, who took it and dropped it again. “ Something like this: ‘My dear Brother—’ ” “Tf I addressed him that way, he’d never believe it was me, and would toss it into the waste basket,” demurred Monty. ‘Never mind. DoasI say,” roared the kidnaper leader. “ Say: ‘I am held for ransom. I do not know where. I am being used kindly. Pay fifty thousand dol- lars as ‘nstructed and I will be returned. Refuse and something will happen—’ say, why don’t you write as I tell your line? About returning MS‘ Dort't you know it’s Mont snnocently. : to kidnap?’ f style — Ne well ' style’ you, if you dont kick through,” snarled the man. “See here. If you're regul ; show me your union cards in the eee nary on Monty. “I don't in- end to have anythin . ; can be called off” a= aT: mean roar day “st NS : dding now. We ing. ’ ormed the chief glower- At the moment he looked it, too. He was a middle-aged man with a dark, square face featuring a jutting, cragged chin and a fleshy nose. His eyes were dark and piercing under downdrawn, scowling brows. His stocky body was set off in a dark brown suit which revealed excellent tailoring. His companion was a slim-waisted, pa- tent-leather-haired young fellow with olive skin, fierce, black eyes and full lips, the lower of which had been scarred by a knife in some past afiray. “This doesn’t look like business to me,” objected Monty. “If you were real busi- nesslike you’d draw up an agreement to deliver me where consigned on payment, C. O. D., or F. O. B., or something—” “Tm going to swing on him if it costs me everything,” announced Paul, rising ominously and balling a hairy fist. ““ Wait!” commanded his leader sharply. “J can handle this comedian. Listen, my friend. We've wasted enough time on you. You may be nutty, but you get me all right. You write as I dictate or we will have to try 2 little persuasion—and you won't be able to Jaugh that off. This boy. knows a few tricks of twisting arms. Or if you prefer, a red hot wire to touch you up. Ready now?” ‘Sure. Don’t get excited,” rejoined Monty. ‘I’m just telling you that you don’t know my brother as I do. He'd consider it a favor if you kept me for & year or two. You want to revise your act it’s out of date. Just switch it back- ward to meet modern ideas. Threaten to send me back if he doesn’t kick in. That'll fetch him.” “T'ye heard that children and fools tell the truth,” muttered Paul savagely. “I half believe this bird is right. Pd sare pay to keep him off-a me before he talks me dippy.” EO IDOOKS () Co