Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 28, 1928 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

THIEVES’ wrist. Possibly in his mind’s eye he saw that inscription “ for faithful serv- ice.’ Possibly the recollection of those words made him pause, but the pause was a briefer interval of time than could be measured on that wrist watch. “No,” said Funk, “ Conover just uses the regular burglar alarm system that rings a signal up in the headquar- ters of the Watson Private Watchman Agency when it goes off. There’s nothing beyond that except the heavy padlocks on the cabinet if which he keeps the raw sables.”’ Karbeck simulated a yawn as if to pretend that he was uninterested in this bit of information for which he had been maneuvering. “How about the rear?” he asked. He put the question as casually as one asking simply to be polite. “Well,” said Funk righteously, * T’ve been telling Conover a long time now that unless he puts that wired lat- tice clear across the rear wall of the shop he’s going to be cleaned out some time. “ But does he ever take my advice? Not him.” “Funny he doesn’t think it is just as necessary to protect the rear of his shop as the front. Anybody who need- ed some sables wouldn’t be too proud to go around to the rear. “Ts the rear open to the other street?” “There’s a passageway, a brick tunnel like, where they used to take the ashes out from the cellar of that vacant building.” “Vacant, huh? I guess maybe they’re going to put up another sky- scraper in there before long. “Anybody that buys Manhattan property and keeps it is bound to get rich. Look at the Astors. Getting richer all the time just because they never sell real estate, or hardly ever. Do they keep a watchman in that build- in a “T see an old nigger back there put- MARKET. 445 tering around sometimes, but that’s all. "At’s what I told the boss. “** Some time,’ I said to him, ‘ some time that old nigger’s going to discover the burglar alarm lattice does not cover the two foot of wall under the window ledge, knock a hole in the wall with a crowbar, come crawling in and help himself to a fortune.’ * And what did Conover say to me? ‘Funk,’ he says, ‘that nigger hasn’t enough energy in him to do all that work. Besides, what’s insurance 108 “Carry much insurance?” ** About one hundred and fifty thou- sand dollars’ worth and seven months out of the year he’s got at least that much stock there.” It was then that Morris Korbeck, who had been picking his teeth behind a cupped hand in what he assumed was a polite manner, signaled the waiter to give him the check. = Don't forget about that stock now, Funk,” he said by way of farewell. <5 m going to make some money for you.” And Funk, the traitor, pretended to himself that Morris Korbeck was just a good friend imbued with the spirit of Santa Claus. CHAPTER IV. STRICTLY BUSINESS, HE Greek candy store on the first floor of the building on Second Avenue that housed the Elite Pool Parlor was a comparatively re- spectable enterprise. The proprietor of the Elite Pool Parlor was a brother of that Hadrian Futhopopolis who owned the Greek candy store, but the relationship long ago had ceased to’ bring the brothers any comfort. Second Avenue knew the proprietor of the Elite Pool Parlor as Nick the Grik, a person whom it was dan- gerous to cross. The police knew him COPMICOOOKS G (E@)