Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 144: what you’re looking at

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

3 ECAP TIE ONY Wy hay Reenter. Ww) Galan en Rohe § aS mS) t 7 : he ‘ i : 282 sé lll “ what?” * Listen to Beans!’ enthuses Salty. “ Ahoy, there, Beans—ship us some langwidge!”’ “Nev-ah out and nev-ah ovah!” squawks Beans, flapping his wings. “Once seen nev-ah forgotten! One at a time, boys; one ata time! Shiver my slats!” “Great!” T says. “From stem to stern,” admits Salty. “ And say, mate, if Beans is willing to talk, why should I?” “You shouldn’t,” I says, tickled silly at the new idea in grinding. “‘ What’s more, if you can keep that bird talking I'll boost your wages five more bucks per weekly.” ~ Just as I had supposed, Beans’s chat- ter attracted more attention than any ten human grinders, even if they yelped their lungs out. Even old man Sul- livan, thé big guy, strolls up, gets a lobeful of Beans’s forensics, and wig- gles his goatee with pleasure. “That's showmanship!’ enthuses Mr. Sullivan. ‘ Er—what is it?” “What did yer think it was?’ whinnies Salty, “a ape?” “JT wasn’t asking about you,” snaps the old man, and goes humming down the lot. Some time during the next two stands, Salty Rork gets well acquainted with Bandy Baldwin, one of my ticket- sellers. I had picked up Bandy a few weeks previous, down in the land of New Mexico, where he had rode a wicked range. He had joined the show in much the same frame of mind as Salty, claiming that he was plumb tired of steers, and didn’t crave to see any more, unless they was sliced, broiled and smothered in onions. So when I dangled twenty smackers per weekly in front of young Bandy he collapsed into the job. How the so ever, just what Bandy found so interesting in Salty, and the vice and the versa, is a puzzle to me, as Sam Lloyd was heard to remark. Be bite,’ says Side-Trap, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. that as it may, as time and Lindbergh flew, they became closer than an eel and his skin, and after they had known each other a couple or three weeks, they shared one another’s ties, socks, hats, B. V. D.’s, or what have you? Enter now Queen Bess, the Albino Beauty, the gal that Ziegfeld passed up, because he didn’t see her. Bess had plenty of “It,” and although four out of five have it we ain’t mentioning pyorrhea. She had more curves than a scenic railway, the skin you love to touch and, speaking of that schoolgirl complexion, she had Miss America looking like Topsy in Mr. Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Well, lads and lassies, any time things are the wee bit too quiet around the vicinity just tote in a appetizing blonde, and permit a sailor and a cow- boy to look her over. If you can’t get action after that, call the marines! No fooling, just as soon as Queen Bess displayed her pulchritude before them two umpchays, trouble swarmed in like mice into a corncrib. And when it was all over, like freckles on a Georgia crackers’ pan, a parrot yclept Beans was knocked for a set of baboon teething-rings. Stick around and see! Il. OvR next attempt to loot the public was at a hard-riding and soft-thinking burg named Mourner, South Dakota. Up to this period, Bandy and Salty are getting along like goldfish and bowls. Before the kid-show opened for the day, they’d stroll down the main stem of the town, arm in arm, happy as a rabbit in a cabbage patch. It was about this time that I got the first intimation that Bandy was taking more than a four per cent interest in Queen Bess. Ten minutes before we gave the first bally-hoo, Bandy struts — up with a five-pound box of candy in his hand. ' “Where to with the toothache pro- moters?”’ JT asked. | comicbooks (ee)