Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 4, 1926 — page 168: what you’re looking at

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

478 Taken thus at a disadvantage, I went down. Of course, I got up—tried to, at any rate. But the moment I got halfway erect, he slammed me again. Having made me groggy by that first unfair punch, he had it all his own way. In the end, he got me down, sat upon me, and reached for some piecés of rope which he seemed to have handy. With these he tied my hands and feet and stuffed my mouth full of cotton. After which he dragged me inside the sugar house! “Phere!” he said. ‘“ You’re salted away.” He looked at his watch. “TI hope,” he said, “ your little playmates will be on time.” It may have been fifteen minutes later when I heard somebody coming up the path. I squirmed and wriggled. Wiilie gave me a kick and moved toward the door. Then he stepped outside. J heard him say again: “ Put ’em up!” And Tom Hobart’s voice came back with: ‘“‘ What the hell?” After that there was an awful row out- side. But presently Willie appeared, drag- ging Tom, tied up the same as I was. He dumped his victim alongside me and stood looking at us. “A sweet pair to draw to,” he said, and looked again at his watch. Then I began to see what had happened. The sneaking Willie had written those notes,. signed a girl’s name to each one of them in order to get us where he could take us unawares! Of course he was riding for a fall. Assault, forgery-—maybe other charges! We'd show him! Fred and Mart and Arthur came in or- der. Willie, with his unfair tactics, man- aged to knock them all out. . So that, less than two hours after I had showed up, the five of us were all there together in the sugar house. We couldn’t talk for the gags—but I know all of us were wondering what Willie would do next. I wouldn’t put anything past a bird like him! He hadn’t stopped grinning once, but now he did. THE ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “Tm going out for a short time,” he said sternly. “TI trust you gentlemen vill remain quiet while I’m gone.” He disappeared through the door, and we heard him walking away. That was the signal for a great effort to break loose. We writhed and twisted, but the chap had done a good job. Thirty min- utes or so passed, and none of us had got free. Then we heard a motor stop in the road at the end of the little path, and kept quiet, waiting for what was to come. | A lot of people were coming toward the hut, and as they came within earshot we knew at once who they were. The girls were squealing in the silly way they always do over 2 mystery: “ What on earth, Willie?” “Are you crazy, Willie?” ‘“T thought you were going to show us something funny, Willie.” The last was in Edith’s voice, and I gritted my teeth. Outside the door Willie halted the parade for a second. The light from an electric torch played about the entrance as he said: “IT told you that I would show you some- thing funny. f will. I call them my col- lection of pet skunks!” With ‘that he flashed the torch about inside and the girls crowded into the door- way. It’s no use going over the events of the next few minutes. Willie made a few re- marks at our expense; we could not even talk. Of course he carefully avoided any reference to his methods of fighting. But in the end he took out a pocketknife and cut the rope on my hands. “You do it, George,” he said. on, people.”’ With which he walked away with all the girls. ““ Come Willie and Edith were married, right enough. And when it came out that he was the harum-scarum son of William Otis Spicer, the big New York banker, it be- came necessary for us to tolerate him at least outwardly. But I am sure that our bunch and Willie will never be fast friends. END EORMICGLOOOLK< (E@)