Adventure Magazine Cover, August 18, 1921 — page 89: what you’re looking at

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

The San Marcos Affair “T’ve changed my mind,” he said. “Tl go back to San Marcos for a while.” Munn appeared pleased. “That’s good,” he said. “I’m glad to hear it.”” There was a mild sort of curiosity in his eyes. ‘I wonder what made you switch around so abruptly?” “T’ve had a sort of unexpected inspira- tion, or something like that,’’ answered Tom. He hesitated; then— “Mr. Munn, I don’t believe Bissel will ever catch the men who’ve been raiding San Marcos.” ‘You don’t?” said Munn quickly. “No,” said Tom, shaking his head. ‘But I believe I will.”’ “You!” ejaculated the superintendent. “TI wouldn’t be surprized,”’ said Tom. “T’ll come pretty close to it, anyway. I believe that.” “Would you mind saying what you know, or intend to do?” suggested the super- intendent. “T’d rather not just now,” replied Crane. “Maybe later,” He deliberated a bit. “T’d like to ask you not to say anything about it to the police department,” he said then. ‘Let Bissel work it his way and let me work it my way. We'll see how things come out. Would you do that?” “Well,” said Munn slowly. ‘‘Well—yes, I’ll agree.” He cleared his throat. ‘‘Fool- ishness, probably.” Crane smiled amiably. “I think not.” Munn was considering him quizzically. “But, granting that either you or Bissel will solve the San Marcos affair, what will you do then?” he asked. “Leave?” “Let’s not say anything about that for the present,” returned Crane. His smile widened. ‘‘Maybe when I’ve cleared up things at San Marcos you'll be wanting to offer me a better job!”’ “Humph!” said Superintendent Munn. EXPRESS MESSENGER WAT- RISS was awakened by the persis- _tent ringing of the telephone in his room In the Shannon; the Shannon being the modest Carbon City hotel where Watriss put up between runs. As the greater part of his running was done at night it follows that the greater part of his sleeping was done day-times. The alarm clock beside his bed was set for nine BM. Watriss looked at the time-piece as he 83 crawled out of bed; it showed four p.m. Muttering, he took down the receiver. “Hello,” he said, not too pleasantly. ‘“‘Want to see you,” said a thick, heavy voice. ‘Can you come down?” “Oh, it’s you,”’ quickly answered Watriss, obviously recognizing the other speaker. “T’ve been sleeping; the phone woke me up. Anything important?” “You might call it that.” ‘Why not come up? “Be wiser not. You drop into Henry’s in about a half hour. I'll be there.” “T get you. Good-by,” said Watriss. He hung up and set about dressing. “The sly old fool,” he grumbled. “Be just as safe for him to come here as for me to go to Henry’s joint. Somebody’s more liable to see us together there than here. Oh, well, these bulls get funny ideas.” A little time later he issued from the hotel and made his way to Henry’s—an unpre- tentious café located in a quiet eddy back of Carbon City’s main thoroughfare. He entered and at a table in a far corner he espied Officer Bissel. Watriss made his way there and sat down. ‘““What’s the news?” he said. | “T’ve got the keys now,” said Bissel at once. “I’ll be in there every night, be- ginning tonight. As soon as you’re ready you can shoot.” He spoke not at all fur- tively;,;but his voice was low-pitched. “That’s the stuff,’ said Watriss. “No more hit and miss, eh?” “No,” returned the officer. He made a slight expression of irritation. ‘‘Four times in, and not once right. But that’s ended; I'll not need to tumble up the office any more—or break any windows. I can go in now whenever I want; on legitimate busi- ness—looking for burglars!’ He laughed. ‘Too bad you weren’t there night before last instead of last night,’’ said Watriss. “YT had a proper bunch of the stuff then. One hundred and fifty thousand.”’ Bissel’s eyes gleamed for a moment. “Ha!” he said swiftly. It was like an exclamation of deep chagrin. “And last night you had nothing?” Watriss shook his head. ‘‘Nothing worth while. Just a few thousands.” ‘“‘We missed it that time,” said Bissel, with something like a sigh. “But the next time we’ll not,” he added. ‘‘You let Sperry know. Ill be on the job; you can depend on that.” COmiclboook ©