Adventure Magazine Cover, February 3, 1921 — page 115: what you’re looking at

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

Lines of Cleavage A tall, immaculately dressed man, wear- ing a monocle, came toward him. “Who the —— are you and what do you want?” The other laughed. “Tut tut! That’s no way to treat ia visitor. I want to have a little chat with you, and this—” he. playfully dangled the key of the door between his fingers—"tells me that we are going to have it free from interference... Isn’t that rippin’?”’ A sudden light dawned on Smith. “Oh, you’re the English dude they call the Major, are you?” he sneered, “Well, this is the way I talk to you!” He made a lightning grab for the revolver which hung beside his desk. “No you don’t.” The voice was curt and crisp. The monocle had dropped from the © Major’s eye and with it the inane, almost vacant appearance of the Major’s face. Smith’s hand dropped to his side. He was too wise to disobey the commands of a man whe held a revolver in his hands and was reputed to be a dead shot. “Well, what is it you want?”’ The*Major replaced the monocle and sat down in a chair close to Smith, holding the revolver carelessly on his knees, “That’s: better,” he said. “Now we can have a comfy chat. Nice place you’ve got here.” He waved one hand airily, indicating the pictures of nude women which covered the walls. “Nice, that is, for a swine like you.” Smith’s face turned purple with wrath, but he made no reply. : “You know,” said the Major confi- dentially, “Vve got a feeling that I’ve seen you before somewhere. Now where could it be?” “How the —— do I know? I don’t re- member every fool I meet,” “You don’t? I do. Now let me see. You’re not Spike Dougan by any chance?” “My name’s Smith, you fool.” “Ah, yes. And of course you couldn’t be Spike. He died of D. T’s years ago. How silly of me. Wait, I have it. Hold up your left hand.” Reluctantly Smith obeyed. ‘Three fingers were missing. The Major put his head back aad roared with laughter, but the muzzle of the revolver which he held on his knee did not waver from its aim at the pit of Smith’s stomach. “Oh, this is too rich,” chortled the Major. 109 “Really it’ll be the death of me. I came here to rob, but instead I’m going to black- mail you.” Smith flushed and moved uneasily. “What do you mean?” “Fancy meeting you here of all places, dear old Three-Fingered Sam, wanted for forgery, bigamy, jail-breaking and the Lord knows what besides.” At the sound of his old-time nickname Smith turned pale under his tan. ‘Not so loud,’ he implored. may hear you. You said you came here on business—came to steal. Well, what do you want?” “z “The letters written to you by Mrs. ri “So you ’re after her, are you?”’ “Don’t make me angry, Sam, because anger contracts the muscles and that would be very unpleasant for you. This revolver has a light touch and the slightest contrac- tion of the finger would—well, I would hate to be hanged for killing a swine like you. Get the letters.” Smith opened. a drawer of his desk and took out a bulky package of letters. Select- ing two, he handed them to. the Major. The others he was about to put back but the “Some one ~ Major held out his hand for them, and Smith grudgingly handed them over. “Tl see that they are returned to their proper owners, Sam. You ought to thank me for saving you so much trouble.” “Ts there anything else you’d like?” Smith’s tone was almost meek. “Why yes, now you mention it, there is. Five thousand. pounds, please:”’ “You'll ruin me, Major,’’ Smith whined. “Oh, I don’t think so. off bally easy, really. Just think. I’d only have to go to the police and say that Kafir: Smith is another name for Three-Fingered Sam and even your pull wouldn’t save you.” “T know, I know. [ll give you the money. Will my check do?” “Ves, I fancy you won’t dare go back on it. Make it out to A. Harris.” “Didn’t know that was your name.” Smith had forgotten, if he ever knew, that Aggie, his barmaid, was named Harris. “The trouble with you, Smith, is that you don’t remember the name of every —— fool you meet.’ The Major carefully folded the check ad put it in his pocket. I'm letting you. “T think that’ll be all, Sam, except that COmMicloooks (C@