Adventure Magazine Cover, April 1916 — page 211: what you’re looking at

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

The matter on his mind and be in haste to dis- burden himself of it. ““Miss Carola,”’ he began, ‘“‘this ain’t the place to talk with you and if you would allow me to escort you home this evening I’d be obliged to you.” Carola was embarrassed and hid the fact by a semblance of extreme regret. Her eyes flitted to the desk behind which was the day-clerk, Mr. Darrow. “Oh, I’m really sorry, Misteh Kelly!” she exclaimed. “If you had only spoken to me befo’e I’d have been delighted to ac- cept youh escoht. But I have already made an engagement foh this evening.”’ - Young Kelly muttered something hasty under his breath and appeared put-out. ‘Well, this’s the only chance I’ll have,” he said, “‘and I’ll have to talk to you here. Say, Miss Carola, you’re wise to me, all right. I don’t have to tell you what I’ve been thinking about these few days. You’ve made a hit with me, and. you know it. Well, this fight is goin’ to put me on easy street where I can quit the game for good. Now, just you say the word and it’s all set. Here comes some guy that wants to butt in and there’s a dozen or more wantin’ to nose around and pick an acquaintance with me. “T can’t stop any longer, but just you say the word. I got to make a quick getaway after the fight tomorrow, on the ‘six-fif- teen’, and if you’re game, just say you’ll have your bag down here at the hotel and be ready to beat it when I come in. What say, honey?” Carola turned white and then red, and her eyes and mouth both opened wide. Before she could answer he went on rapidly. “We can flag a rab—a preacher, up to Springfield, and have it all fixed. Come on, honey, and say you'll be here with the grips!”’ | Carola choked and hid her face a moment. ‘“‘I—I—really, Misteh Kelly! Oh, I hahdly know how to say it. But I—TI’ll be - hehe with my things if you reahlly wish it!”’ Kelly uttered a suppressed cry of joy. “Oi, oi!’ he cried. ‘What a fine girl it is! You'll have a real Prince’s grandson for a man, and the real thing when it comes to a fight! So long, dearie, and give us a pray while I’m licking that Mick tomorrow.”’ Fairly dancing with his joy, he rushed out of the lobby while Carola followed him with eyes that seemed to express equal measures of fright, astonishment and laugh- 14 ~ Trap 209 ter. But she had to resume her duties and hide as best she could the agitation that was overcoming her. A good many people who had noticed the intimate conversation took excuse to come up and, while buying a cigar or the like, ask her opinion of the outcome of the fight. She, knowing the pugilist so well, should have some inside ‘“‘dope.”’ To these she merely stated that Misteh Kelly seem- ed very confident, and she had no doubt that he was quite equal to giving a very good ac- count of himself. As the time drew near for her departure, she busied herself with straightening up her case and with putting on her hat. While her back was turned to the counter during this operation she heard some one approach and tap on the glass. She turned about with her mouth full of hatpins, to face Marty McGuire. Marty was also laboring under excite- ment. “Say, Carrie,” he began familiarly. “I got to put you next—see! You’ve made a hit wi’ your Uncle, you have. Say de woid, Kid. Just say it low an’ soft, an’ little Marty has de ring all ready. And don’t you worry dat he can’t buy de ice to hang onto you, neither. ‘““You know dis scrap dat’s comin’ off to- morrow, Kid. Well, dey t’ink it’s all set for a killin’, but de chicken dat’s due to git de ax ain’t goin’ to come up to de block. Do you git me? Little Micky is goin’ to slip in a double cross of his own on dese wise guys. An’ he’s goin’ to clean up de poise fer himself and cash a bet or two. W’en I hang de kayo on dat Sheeny, I cops big dough, see! And I figger dat de surprise’ll be so big and sudden dat I’ll have time to fan it back here to de hotel and pick you up before dey find out what’s happened to him. ‘All you got to do is say de woid, Carrie, an’ have yer duds down here ready fer de break, and den we’ll make de foist rattler out, an’ git de parson at de foist stop. Will you be ready to hit de grit tomorrow, babe?” A hatpin dropped from Carola’s trem- bling lips and she looked all about as though to escape the boring, sharp little eyes that searched her face. But her own gaze only met the impassive one of Mr. Darrow, the day-clerk, who had assumed his hat and was lifting the gate that shut off the desk from the lobby. She was barely able to CoMmicboooks CO