Adventure Magazine Cover, August 18, 1921 — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

The San Marcos Affair “T’ll count three,” said Tom. “One— two——” Officer Bissel stepped aside. “Go on!”’ he growled. A succession of deep grumblings came from him. But Crane paid no attention; he stepped past Bissel and through the depot entrance. IT WAS drawing toward three o’clock when the agent from San Marcos arrived at Superintendent Munn’s office. Munn was in, alone. A gray-haired man of average height, who had climbed from dispatcher to superintendent in five years. He regarded Crane inter- rogatively. ‘“T’ve come on business,’ once. “My depot at San broken into last night.” ‘““Again?”’ exclaimed Munn. ‘“‘Again,” assured Crane. “Why didn’t you wire?” “I wired the other three times,’ replied Tom mildly. “It did no good. Today I thought I’d report personally.” ‘“‘Humph!”’ said Munn. He frowneda > said Tom at Marcos was ) bit. “Anything taken?” “Apparently not. Nothing of value, anyway.” “Have you notified our police depart- ment?” “No, sir.” “Why not?” “‘They’ve already had three chances,”’ said Tom patiently. He waved his hand expressively. ‘You think it’s useless?” “Practically, yes.” “‘The !? said Munn. His frown deepened. ‘Who is in charge at San Mar- cos while you are away?” he asked sudden- ly the day,” stated Crane evenly. ““You mean there’s no one there?” ex- claimed Munn. “Yes, sir,” answered Tom. was poor anyhow.” “You’ve got your nerve!” declared the superintendent. ‘‘Don’t do it again.” “I’m expecting it’ll not be necessary,” responded Crane. ‘Not at San Marcos.” Munn looked at Tom sharply. “Just what do you mean?” he asked. “I’m figuring on leaving San Marcos,” explained Tom. ‘Right away; now.” “Business “Business at San Marcos has ended for: SI “Leaving!” ejaculated Munn. ‘What do you want to do that for?” “T’ve had enough of it out there for a while,” said Crane. ‘Enough of this thing of having somebody break into the station every week especially. It’s too —— pif- fling.” “Well!” said Munn. “Your policeman, Bissel, says it’s hoboes who do the breaking in,” continued Tom. ‘Says they do it out of pure devilment partly, and partly because they think they might accidently run across something worth their while. I don’t know, but I think I’m beginning to see the point. [I want no more of it; it’s too danged trifling.” “Td rather you’d not go,” said Munn. “Thanks. But when I think of how, every time the station got messed up, I had to make separate reports to the express people, to the railroad police c partment and to your office, with endless checking-up and going-over with Bissel and express company inspectors, I get weary. And it’s all about nothing, practically. So Bis- sel as much as admits. He may be right; T’ll not argue about it.” Tom paused a moment and sat regarding his shoe tips. He resumed: ‘“‘And then, too, I met a certain one rail- road fellow down outside the depot here— just before I came up. His method filled me with supreme disgust. It decided me; I’m quitting.” Munn elevated his brows. ‘His name?” “No name given, if you’ll excuse me,”’ re- turned Tom. The superintendent shrugged his shoul- ders. “Very well—if you’d rather not.” “And, oh yes,” said Tom, as if suddenly recalling something. “I was going to tell you that I’d tried a little scheme out at San Marcos, last night. But there doesn’t seem to have been any conclusive results so far.” “What was it?”’ questioned Munn. “It was supposed to be a home-made thief-catching stunt,” said Crane. ‘“Thought it up all by myself; it was that simple. Some of it seemed to work, too. Was all right as far as it went. Hasn’t settled anything yet, though. It did seem to me as if it ought to be some good. But [ll be darned if fe “But what was the stunt?” interrupted Munn. “Oh, yes, the stunt. T’ll tell you,” said C© MICLOOOKS (©