Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 16, 1921 — page 139: what you’re looking at

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

130 ward into an uppercut that snapped his head back as though it were hinged to his shoulders. He went down, soundlessly, a crumpled heap on the sidewalk. Miss Larrabie smothered a surprised “Oh, Gawd!” and then stood speechless while Hamlin lifted Frayne to his shoulders. “ Now get away from here, Miss Larra- bie. And remember—don’t come back. And keep your mouth shut!” When Hamlin, carrying Frayne, reached the steps of the Richards residence, he saw Miss Larrabie walking rapidly away, look- ing back over her shoulder. “Get him,” grinned Hamlin as Labrue opened the door. “ An’ a damn good job,” said Labrue, vindictively. ‘“I’d have made that guy look like a colander if I could have got Miss Richards to say the word. He’s a friend of that damned Luther Morrell, whose dad your father downed out near Lanon.” Hamlin carried Frayne up-stairs to Miss Larrabie’s room. From what Lawton had told him about Labrue, and from what he knew of the man from talking with him, he knew there would be no interference. He carried Frayne into the room and dropped him upon the bed, amidst the litter of Miss Larrabie’s discarded clothing. The man was showing signs of regaining con- sciousness—his eyelids were fluttering, his muscles twitching; he rolled his head from side ‘to side in an effort to clear his befogged brain. Hamlin locked the door and stood with his back to it, watching Frayne with a grin in which there was no mirth. And after a while Frayne made an effort to sit up, succeeded, and sat on the edge of the bed swaying from side to side, blinking at objects in the room. He grew steadier after a few minutes; and then he seemed to see Hamlin for the first time. He stared perplexedly for a short interval, during which he felt of his jaw, where Hamlin’s fist had landed. Then his face bloated with resentment. “ What in hell did you hit me for?” he demanded belligerently. Not waiting for an answer, he reached for a hip-pocket. Simultaneously, Hamlin was on top of him, grasping the hand as it neared the pocket, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. twisting it until Frayne whined in agony. When Frayne turned his body to escape a broken arm, Hamlin’s hand sought the man’s hip-pocket, bringing out a pistol of heavy caliber, which he eyed contemptuous- ly for an instant and then threw into a corner. Frayne, holding his arm, watched Ham- lin dispose of the gun. He was a slender man, lithe, sinewy. On the night of his experience in the Dragon, Hamlin had looked once at Frayne, mentally determin- ing him to be a rather colorless individual who lacked initiative. He saw now that Frayne was more dangerous than he had thought. ‘“ Frayne,” he said, ‘‘ get up.” Frayne got unsteadily to his feet, watch- ing Hamlin with a shadow of fear in his ferretlike eyes. It was plain that he thought Hamlin was going to explain the attack on him, and his action in bringing him to the room. But no explanation came. Hamlin in- tended to make none. “Frayne,” he said again; “I’m Lane Hamlin—the man you met in the Dragon the other night.” Frayne started; then leaned forward and looked long and hard at Hamlin. The light of recognition began to glow in his eyes, and with it a shrinking fear. “You know me, eh?” Frayne’s manner indicated that he did. He tried to take a step backward, but the bed prevented. So he stood silent, watching Hamlin. “Frayne,” said Hamlin, Morrell take Barbara Alden?” Frayne sneered. ‘‘ What in hell a I know about it?” ‘he muttered. He tried to move sidewise, evidently divining from the flame in Hamlin’s eyes that physical punishment for the lie was im- minent. He was too slow. Hamlin’s blow traveled faster than he anticipated. The fist landed with crushing force on Frayne’s jaw, at a point which was already bruised; and he tumbled back upon the bed, groan- ing, half unconscious. When he finally got up again, it was to see that Hamlin had taken his coat off. He was placing the garment over the back of a “where did Go DOOLK (C@