Adventure Magazine Cover — page 43: what you’re looking at

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

The Sunshine Separator ting sharply into the brightening cobalt. The domes of the mosques hung like little moons in mid-air. Shadowy forms began to mount the spiral stairways of the mina- rets—the muezzins whose first call to prayer would, a moment later, break the silence with golden tones. It was a ghost world of softly moving lights and shadows. Through its separating mists the two walked in silence until they reached the deserted entrance of the Hétel des Fleurs. Holbrooke held out his hand. “I’m going to the Palais Consulaire,” he | lins, the ‘‘ Ferret,’ with a conse- quential air as he inhaled a mouthful of cigarette smoke and indulgently regarded his two companions seated around a greasy, beer-stained table in the rear of an unsavory barroom on First Avenue. “It’s the easiest graft I ever got next to for separatin’ the dough ay ‘““You mean the fountain pens,” sneered “Reddy” Burns, the corners of his loose mouth drooping scornfully. ‘“‘Or near-junk umbrellas and dinky over- coats,” scoffed big Pete, the “strong arm.” “ T’S sellin’ books for mine, all i” right,” announced “‘Spider”’ Mul- y) 799 explained. ‘Shall we breakfast together— say at nine?”’ “Delighted,” said the girl. ‘I shall be frightfully hungry by then.” She gave him a quick, self-contained little smile, and her finger-tips. ‘Then she walked leisurely up the hotel steps and rang the night bell. Holbrooke stood, hatless, coatless, watch- ing her with half grave, half humorous eyes. When the door closed upon her retreating form he lighted a cigarette, wheeled with military precision, and walked across the empty square toward the Consulate offices. SEPARATOR by Charles Edward Daniel] “Looks to me like you’re tryin’ to start up a three balls rag-shop, Ferret.” “Well, I ain’t makin’ any holler yet,” retorted the latter confidently. “I'll take a chance with it against friskin’ leathers off the push on Brooklyn Bridge durin’ rush hours. Besides, it’s a business.” He pro- duced a neat red leather case and threw a heavy, gilt-edged card printed in two colors on the table. “Some pasteboards I got up last week to put ’em wise,” he explained airily. “I hand ’em out to my customers. Say, they make a big hit, too!”’ His listeners grinned derisively as they oO C© MICLOOKS