Adventure Magazine Cover — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

A Pot “T know why. You'll get out of here if it takes my last cent.” Tom grimly remembered that he had only about a hundred dollars to his name. But he would manage somehow. He had to! “By the way,” he asked casually, ‘did Markum give you five hundred dollars for something?”’ “Yes. I borried it.” Pete pondered a moment. ““Mebbe I shouldn’t have done it?” “Oh, that was all right. Did you give him anything in return?” “Lemme see. [’mtired. Um. Isigned a receipt. Why?” “Oh, nothing. We were just arguing about who the receipt belonged to.” “Belongs to?” Pete raised himself weakly on the pillow. “Why, she belongs to Markum. He wrote in his name. Then he handed me his pen and I signed too. Why?” “Tt didn’t say what the five hundred was for?” “Sure not. *ITwarn’t nobody’s business, was it? Why—what’s the matter?” “Oh, Markum gets his accounts mixed up. Tt’s unbusiness-like. Makes a lot of trouble. I’ve worried about that fool receipt for two hours because I was wondering what the five hundred was for. Markum couldn't remember correctly. Now I'll straighten things out.” When Tom left his jaw set like a vise. It was cold-blooded robbery, all the worse because hard to prove. Markum had writ- ten that stuff about the mine into the receipt after Pete had signed an innocent paper. It was bold, bald, shameless and fatal. Tom reached Markum’s office, seeing red. He hurtled past a clerk who would have detained him. He tore open the door of the private office and bore down on Markum. Then he halted. Alongside the promoter was a. tall, elderly man of erect bearing and perfect afternoon raiment. His poise and _ his handsome, serious face stamped him as a thinker and a person of assured social position. His brow was high, his intelligent eyes well apart and his well-groomed hair and mustache graying at the edges. It was Richard Wentworth, Hélen’s wealthy fiancé. Tom hesitated; but his ire was too great to stifle. Ignoring Wentworth, he stood of Gold Ry! over Markum like a tower of wrath. The fat little promoter burrowed into his swivel-chair. ‘““Markum, you lied to me,’ thundered Tom. “You lied—lied—lied! If you’ve got anything to say, say it quick.” ‘“‘What—what’s the matter?”’ “You know! You buncoed Pete Dolliver out of his mine!” The pudgy little promoter had been through this sort of thing before, but he never liked it. It was the one drawback to an otherwise successful and profitable business. Sometimes women wept on the table and made nasty scenes, but they were compara- tively easy. Men generally wanted to fight. The more powerful men sometimes made serious trouble. Tom looked power- ful. Markum acted accordingly. ““Here—let’s talk thisover. There’s some mistake. Take a chair and cool down. That’s it. Cool down.” ‘“‘There’s no mistake. You’re a plain swindler.” Markum took a chance. He noted alarmed clerks running in through the door. “Prove it.” : IT MADE Tom see red again. Lat His powerful arms reached forward ‘+ and swung Markum out of his chair, whirled him to an open window and hung him out face-downward. Markum looked five stories to the busy pavement below—and into eternity. Wentworth grabbed Tom’s arm des- perately. “Hall! Stop it! Stop it” But Tom ignored him, roaring at the man under his arms. “Speak up—quick! Did you swindle Dolliver? Say it!” Vest”? “Did you doctor that receipt?” “Yes! For ——’s sake lemme in!” “Are you going to make amends?” “Yes! Anything! Anything! Stop it— stop it!” People down below started to look up- ward. Tom shook off the writhing figures alongside him and swung the promoter back into the room. “Put it in writing!’ roared Tom. it!” Markum staggered away from the win- dow and got behind a table. Moisture “Sign COmiclbook C©