Adventure Magazine Cover — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

Flatfoot “He went in our tent to get said photo. I saw ’im g’win. Saw ’im c’mout too.” Doc heaved a great sigh. “Well, Bennet,” he said, “the point is, these two men state that they saw you take a watch that hung by its chain from the head end of Gillen’s cot. And so——’”’ “They’re a pair 0’ liars, sir! When I was in their tent they were both snorin’ their heads off like——” “And so, perhaps the best thing to do would be to hand over the watch. Or % Snoots began undressing. He had on only a pair of dungaree trousers, an under- shirt and shoes. In half a minute he stood under bare poles, shaking his undershirt aloft with one hand, his trousers, pockets turned out, with the other. “Naturally,” Gillen sneered, ‘‘a fellow wouldn’t keep a watch he’d just pinched in his pocket.” . “There’s me ditty-box an’ sea-bag,”’ in- vited Snoots. “Go through ’em.” “Do that,’ Doc commanded, nodding to Gillen. ‘Perhaps, though—”’ He hesi- tated, eying me shrewdly—“perhaps we’d save time by first searching his shipmate.” “No, sir,” I shot back; “and Pll tell you why. They’re not out after my scalp. Bennet is the man those two skunks want to see hang, sir. You see, doctor, if they’d planted that watch among my belongings it would weaken their case against Bennet. He’s the boy they’re after. I believe, sir, in fact Pll lay the six hundred dollars in that ditty-box to six cents that you'll find that watch in this tent—among Bennet’s be- longings, right where that fellow, or his pup, planted it. It’s a rotten frame! That pair ” “Oh, tut tut,’ Doc checked me, and mo- tioned Gillen to go on with the search. “Might as well be a clam, Breeze,” Snootful grinned. In silence we watched Gillen search Snootful’s ditty-box. This took only a few seconds. Then he lay hold of my ship- mate’s sea-bag, upended it, but paused in the act of dumping its contents on deck. _ “T don’t like to dirty all his clothes,” he said. ‘T’ll dump ’em on his bunk.” ‘“Now that’s nice an’ considerate,” Snoot- ful scoffed. ‘I never knew you to suffer from ’largement o’ the heart before.” I had the same thought. Id seen enough of “Dirty” Gillen to know that it was not the thought of soiling Snootful’s clothes Strategy 89 that deterred him. Not Gillen. What he wanted to get away from was the piecemeal search of Snootful’s clothing. Why all that tedium, when he knew the exact location of the planted watch. I thought of all this, and wanted to remark on it, but in so fleeting an interval couldn’t get my tongue going. Gillen upended the bag on Snootful’s cot. Then, before dumping its contents, to make room he reached over and picked up the pillow, apparently intending to toss it over on to Ruination’s or my bunk. In so doing he uncovered the little joker. There lay his watch and chain. With his right hand Doc took the watch, and with his left drew from his pocket a pair of handcuffs. The instant he saw those things of shin- ing steel Snootful Bennet of the twentieth century ceased to be. In his place stood the wild, ferocious animal, the red-eyed naked man-ape of a million years ago, whose big idea was, “Do before you’re done!’ and who did with club, teeth and nails. “Hang me!” he snarled through froth- ing teeth. “Yuh ! Awright! Git a bite while you're gittin’ a bellyful! yuh ! ’Swell hang fer a sheep as a goat! Yuh ——!” And growling, frothing, rolling his red eyes, Snoots danced this way and that in a frantic effort to get past Doc to Gillen. He hula-hulad, shimmied, leaped, wheeled, gyrated like a monkey on springs—but all to no avail, for Doc danced, whirled and pivoted with him move for move, keeping Snoots before and Gillen behind him. And Gillen? He danced along move for move with Doc, on his ugly face the look of a man whom the animals were hot after. Gillen wanted out. But there was no get- ting out; the twisting, wiggling Snootful, with his back to the tent’s open end, held the advantage of position. Dixie and I had scurried over into a cor- ner, where we were huddled together—in the clear. Johnson, who had worked his way round to the front end, tried to trip Snoots from behind—great trick that pup had of stick- ing out a foot. Snoots handed him a back- hand rap across the mouth that brought blocd spurting and sent the square-head rolling out into the street. Snoots spun, in delivering that swing, and for a small part of a second his back oO COMmicloo <S CO