Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 27, 1925 — page 56: what you’re looking at

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

S48 arms. What kind of game is going on here, anyway?” Both crooks turned instinctively toward Monty. He was staring with stricken eyes at the black-haired, black-eyed girl who had been pushed into the cabin. His hands were shaking as though in great agitation. “ Sweetheart!” he cried in best melo- drama style, lurching out to the limit of his chain tether and throwing his arms about her. It was a mean trick, but he intended to protect Ruth at all hazards. The pals of this young person probably would take care of her and, anyway, she was no better than she should be. Tremulously, he con- tinued: ‘‘ These villains shall not harm you. Before I let them touch a hair of your head, I will tell all—I will give in to their demands.”’ As the indignant Belle gaped at him, Monty embraced her, pressing her face to his manly chest so that her furious expres- sion would not be seen. And, of course, at that instant Bat returned to the cabin, pushing ahead of him Ruth Lowrey who stared reproachfully at this affecting tableau. IX. RutH’s face betrayed jealousy. She wiped out the telltale look as Trescott glanced sharply at her. He had turned so quickly that he caught the hasty change. At the same moment Belle introduced a divertissement by slapping Monty soundly and giving him a push away from her. The shove was so vigorous that it knocked him back over the chair from which he had risen. With a loud clanking of chains, he sprawled there. “Laugh that off, sap!” snapped the in- dignant Belle. ‘“ What do you mean, try- ing to mush me? Fenton will break you in two for this.” ‘“Who’s zat?” demanded Trescott. “Winter Book Fenton?” Belle turned smoldering eyes of scorn on the chief, but refused to answer. Trescott, however, had heard enough to set him to thinking. “How she loves me!’”’ moaned Monty, Struggling to his feet. Ruth was laughing, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. and the other woman tumed sharply upon er. “ T’ve seen that pan before,” she accused, staring hard at Ruth’s face. “I can’t re- member just where. On the stage or in a pitcher.” “‘T dare say. I’ve been on the stage,” boasted Ruth with exaggerated hauteur, tossing her head and placing one hand on her hip to register ritzy self-satisfaction. “I've been begged to go into pictures, too.” “Look out for her, she’s slipping some- thing across on you,” warned Belle, ad- dressing Trescott. Ruth raised a cynical eyebrow. ‘She’s slipping nothing. Neither are you, see?” stated the chief crossly. “ All right, Bat. That was a good hunch of yours to bring this one back. They tipped off enough between. them to wise me up. Take her back and lock her up. We'll tie the other one up here with little Rollo. As soon as they get to scrapping, we'll get the lowdown on this mix-up.” After Bat had returned from locking up Ruth, he helped his pals tie Belle to a chair. She and Monty relapsed into sul- len silence while the three crooks ate the food which Paul had brought. They made a great show of enjoying their meal, but Monty eyed them torpidly. Weariness was overtaking him after hours of exacting activities and mervous strain. He slumped down in his chair, in- different to the scowls which Belle directed at him. His bored expression masked his straining concentration to hear what the captors were Saying in their whispered con- ferences. Fragments of sentences reached his ears. Something about the motor boat returning after dark. A word or two about looking for a rowboat with a red lantern, and how they were going to know if Gil made con- nections. Occasionally one of the men would open the door to look out, or would step out to ascertain if Ruth still was under lock-and- key. At such times Monty could see- that darkness was falling. After the crooks had dawdled an hour or more over their eating, drinking and waiting for some one, Bat rose and stared down at his leader. 3 COnniEaoo () SS Co