Argosy, Vol. 147, No. 1 — page 58: what you’re looking at

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

, = td ead F >. gs — P - + ee = oe eee | ae ° Pee : wired a] te ti ime they had reached the en- tc | the stone chamber. The door was fell, what do you think of that?” ex- ed Bruce. “So help me Bob—it is ght,” commented Bailey in low tones, unless I am mistaken here is the big ck. ‘This way with your light—it’s in ad. 1 just stepped on it.” Jot so loud. Take it easy,” warned pe. “They may be waiting for us to our heads up through the opening.” fever,” replied Bailey. “ They are not n that room. The Jumbo negress could t make it. She travels in one piece. In chunk—no. I tell you she busted her st line coming down. Didn't I help a “ That as it may,” said Bruce. “I’m ng to find out. Stay where you are for moment.” Thrusting his lantern ahead of him, Bruce jutiously climbed into the room they had recently fled from. Bailey was right. ddie Carbon and his companions had not ide their escape in this direction. The s on the shattered trapdoor leading up ) Connors’s dance hall had not been W mat do you find?” asked Bailey from ‘No! ‘athing. The room is empty.” ‘Then it ought to make a nice little bed- 1 for this cripple. at pile of straw in the corner?” A good suggestion—boost him up.” sgether they hoisted Joie into the room, which Bailey climbed to Bruce's side. 1 men were grappling with the same lem. What motive had influenced the > Why had he opened the door, after ‘pains to convince them that the st? What was his purpose in by | long enough to r he had 9 intention of using? 9s not because of kindly intent; uce and Bailey an avenue of Se ____- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Can’t we plant him. xg = - o gh eS . finished 4 a a 1 + eA > ta. aily Telile PKU a? rT Be ~ Fy = 3 f re a - ley - 5 ® <2 =, ee, ee eee R=" > ee s, 7. « is no fool. Could anything have been more artful than the way he clawed in the mud for a key that was probably in his pocket all the time?” Bailey, who had been giving close atten- tion to the sordid details of the stone cham- ber, suddenly turned to Bruce. “You can pin my medal right here,” he said, tapping his chest. “ A medal for what?” asked Bruce. “For being the star sleuth hound. I know why the negro opened this door.” “Why?” asked Bruce, all attention. “To sneak up and get the funny little chest. It’s gone.” Bailey’s simple deduction required obser- vation only to confirm it, The strange-looking box had vanished. During Bruce’s earlier inspection of the room his attention had been cunningly di- verted from the box by its apparent use as a receptacle for food. In all probability a shallow tray had been fitted into the top of the chest for the purpose of misleading any one who might become curious. The open lid had likewise served to disarm sus- picion. “ Once more the interest quickens,” said Bruce. “ What do you imagine was in the blooming chest?”’ “Don’t ask me,” replied Bailey. “I’m a sleuth—not a fortune teller. Furthermore, I think we should forget, for the moment at least, the chest and its contents, as a graver matter is up for decision.” « All right, chief—I’m listening.” “Tn the first place,” began Bailey, “ rim disaster has flirted with us ever since we set foot in the Cracker Pot. Everything we promised to look after has disappeared, or been wrecked right in front of our eyes. Connors—Eddie Carbon—the negress and the mysterious young woman—all have vanished. Besides that, the sailors have riddled the Cracker Pot and the police have closed it up for good. Now, what I want to know is this: shall we climb back into the dance hall and wash our hands of the entire mess, or slide into the sewer and hunt — for the negro?” ee The lines of Bruce’s mouth tightened and a bit of the bulldog flashed from his «ys ; a a ae a at ee ne 7 Se ae i lz $494 * a a 3 « — comicbooks.com