Adventure Magazine Cover — page 66: what you’re looking at

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

56 frightened out of his wits; but Jack was young enough to be crazy and of a tempera- ment that was not disturbed by threats. “Butch” Malloy lurched inside. His big cap was twisted at an angle that almost concealed one side of his face. The ear on the other side was crumpled and disfigured. His pugilistic arms were swung from his body in the attitude of a rushing gorilla. He looked tough, dangerous. His fists were about the size of hams. His jaw was thrust out like a bulldog’s. The police knew him for a bad egg, a gangster that would fight. He started impetuously to say something about croaking- somebody, but his words were twisted, choked, shut off; and the outraged attitude suddenly became one of humble surrender. His hands went up and his jaw dropped down. He was looking into the mouth of an automatic that seemed big enough to swallow him. “IT was wishing you would come,” said Jack with precocious coolness as he drew himself up to the righteous attitude of a Righter of Wrongs. “I’ve been hearing about you. Now be still and don’t try to argue. jr ve got reenforcements right here “handy. With ae he pulled out the second auto- matic and trained its cannon-like muzzle on the astonished gangster. The woman made a sobbing sound so curiously like hysteric laughter that Jack turned and glanced at her; but her face was hid in her folded arms as she crouched in a chair before the table covered with the untouched delicatessen feast. In turning, Jackhad laid himself open to attack from the gangs who was poised as if to rush; but Butch hesitated half a second too long. “Why don’t you try it?” fack.asked with icy contempt. “I’ll make you look lke a doughnut, you try anything on me. I’m going to teach you how it feels to get | beat up.” mass A GLEAM of hope appeared in ewe Butch’s eye. If the young fool eS put down his guns to trv fist- pean well, he had got the name of “Butcher” the squared ring, where in his younger on he had stood a chance at the welterweight title. But laziness and beer had tarnished his fistic honors; yet he was confident enough in his ferocious mug and threatening fists to play the badger game without a gat. Adventure If a fellow had a gun on him the girl was supposed to have removed it; but under the strict antigun-packing law pick-ups were seldom heeled. But, so to speak, Jack had run in a marked deck on the badgers. “Take off your coat,” said the boy. Butch hesitated. With the cold arrogance of one of his own great-uncles, Jack added— ‘“‘My man, move when I speak to you!” Butch moved. Especially he moved his lips, from which curses flowed like oil from an overturned bottle—just oozed out smoothly and effortlessly. Again the queer hysteric laughter-like sob came from the woman. Jack was too busy to look at her. Butch had shed his coat. She was Butch’s girl, all right; but there were times when she hated him. Not when he beat her, but when he mockingly told her of the other woman who was also his girl; and, according to Butch, much pret- tier and a more successful rustler. It might have been a consolation to know that he told the other girl the same thing. It had been at Butch’s insistence, em- phasized by a series of pinches on the arms— unless greatly provoked he did not bat her in the eye since it impaired her working ability for days to come—that she had gone out on a rainy evening to grab off something. She did not know anything about poetic justice, but it pleased her sense of humor to see Butch’s ham-like hands up in the air as if he were getting ready to try to fly. She knew that she must pay in the end, probably with two black eyes; but it was worth it— only she did not dare let him see her laugh. And yet she wanted to laugh. She had worked that young fool up until he was going to punish Butch for beating her—and Butch would beat her harder than-ever for not having got those guns put aside. But -how could she suspect that such an innocent would be packing a pair of rods—particu- larly when he kept-her.an_arm’s length away? It was a good joke in spite’ of her grievance. Having caused the coat to be shed, Jack ordered— “Your shirt now—climb out of it.” “Wat?” Butch cried, his brow furrowed with honest puzzlement, his indignation rising. “Come, come,” said the young lunatic, who was cool and nerveless as the proverbial cucumber. “Take off that shirt.” COmiclbook ©