Adventure Magazine Cover, February 3, 1921 — page 111: what you’re looking at

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

Lines of Cleavage “No. I’m all alone. The police are getting nosey and asking too many ques- tions. Seems they’ve got a new chief who means ‘business, so the boys are keeping away.” The Major nodded and turned to leave. No need for him to waste time here. Per- haps, if the police were playing a straight ‘game, it would be better to put the matter of protecting Mangwato’s son in their hands. Yet—— He stopped at Aggie’s voice. “Stay a little while, can’t yer, Major? If you only knew how sick I am of this place. Not a thing to do except serve drink to drunken beasts who’ve forgotten they were ever born of woman.” The Major, surprized at such an out- burst from one whom. he had ‘considered vapid and empty-headed, walked over to her. “So you're sick of it too?” She laughed harshly. “T wish to —— that I’d never come to the place. I had a good situation in Lon- don’’—she sighed reminiscently—‘‘a ma- hogany counter with solid-silver taps. Only real gents came there. Gents like you. They used to call me “Miss Harris.’ Here it’s ‘Aggie this,’ and ‘Aggie that,’ till I fair forgets that Pve got any other name.”’ “Tt’s like that with me, too,” murmured the Major. “Why did you leave London?” “Tt was the money. I thought I’d be able to save up enough in a year or two to buy a pub of my own somewhere in the country, back home. But what’s the use of money when every decent woman turns up her nose at the sight of me?” She buried her face in her hands and sprawled across the bar, heedless of the suds of beer, the dregs of many glasses, which soiled her much belaced blouse. “Cheer up, Miss Harris, old thing.” The Major placed a kindly hand on her shoulder. She suddenly sat erect and passed a heavily scented handkerchief across her ewes. => “Y’m a fair cut-up, ain’t I?” she sighed. “T had you going for fair. Whoop Ja!” But underneath the gaiety was the sug- gestion of utter despair. “Why don’t you go back home? There’s ° nothing to stop you.” “A fat lot you know about that. can I go home without money?” How 105 ' “But—er—I thought you made a lot?” “So I have, but Kafir Smith, my boss, has been keeping it for me. He said it would be dangerous for a woman to have a lot of money about her im this country. And now he won't give it to me.” 3 “Have you any receipt?”’ “No. I never — he would play me such a dirty trick. I thought he was a gentleman,’ “What’s Kafir Smith look like? I’ve never met him.” “There’s his picture.”” Aggie pointed to a large portrait in colored chalks which adorned one side of the barroom. Examining it, the Major recognized it as the picture of the man he had met in the alleyway. Also there was something haunt- ingly familiar about the man. The Major felt that he had met him before in some other place; at some other time. “Ts he married?” “No.” The girl’s tene was bitter. ‘He made up to me until I gave him my money for safe-keeping. Kafir Smith ain’t got no interest in women save for the money he can get out of them. They say he’s got a hold on most of the women in this dorp.” . “A blackmailer, eh?’’ And the Major’s thoughts reverted to the girl he had seen with Smith in the alley. Aggie nodded. “Yep. Something like that.” “How does he get his hold over them?” “He runs a gambling-outfit and a lot of women owe him money. Then some of them were barmaids before they married and turned respectable. They don’t want their old profession thrown in their faces.” “T see. How much money has Kafir Smith. belonging to you?” “Five thousand pounds.”’ The Major whistled. Aggie flared up angrily. “Tt’s all honestly earried, too. Imay be a barmaid but I’ve always run straight.” Aggie was unconsciously quoting from her favorite author. The Major was all apologies. “T never doubted that for a moment, Miss Harris, old top. But if you had the money, would you go home?”’ “You've said it,” Aggie replied with fervor. “But what’s the use of whining? I’ve made my bed and I must fie in it and I’m so —— tired I can sleep most anywhere.” CORMICGLOOOKS: (C@)