Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 28, 1928 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

452 Not quite an hour later Rand was ushered into old man Hamilton’s pri- vate office. The chief executive of the Atlas Company was in a rare mood. As Rand came in he clamped his teeth together over the end of a bad- ly mutilated cigar, leaned forward ag- gressively in his chair, and said: “Well, young man!” Rand pulled up a chair. “I’m sorry, sir, about that call. I was in something of a jam and I had to get my point across.” “But what job were you talking about?” “Look here, sir. I’m trying to get a friend of mine, my fiancée as a mat- ter of fact, situated in Korbeck’s office. The whole proposition looks hopeless unless I can get some one on the inside to help me. “The only way to get her the job was to get the girl who holds it now out. I had to make her a proposition for more money. I counted on you to help me. She is coming here to-mor- row at nine.” Hamilton grinned and made a note on a pad. “ T’ll fix it up,” he said. Then his face assumed a more seri- ous expression and he picked up a copy of the morning paper, which lay on his desk. “ Seen the paper this morning?” “No, sir. I was down at Korbeck’s at the crack of dawn waiting for a chance to see that girl alone.” Hamilton passed over the paper and indicated a penciled headline. “ One of our clients,” he explained. Rand read: $200,000 FUR ROBBERY. John B. Conover looted of entire stock. Thieves effect entrance through only spot unpro- tected by burglar alarm. Police have evi- dence which will lead to early arrests, “There are two inaccurate state- ments in that heading,” said Hamilton. “Conover only carries one hundred and fifty thousand dollars in insurance, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. so you can bet your last nickel that there wasn’t more than that amount of stock on hand. “Probably the loss isn’t more than seventy-five thousand dollars. The other inaccuracy is that about the po- er ad *“ How so?” “Did you ever see an account of a crime that didn’t explain that the po- lice had clews?” asked Hamilton dryly. “You think this is some of Kor- beck’s work?” asked Rand. Hamilton shrugged. “TI don’t know. It’s a big enough job for him to tackle. But of course he had nothing to do with the actual theft, and you can bet he’ll be thorough- ly protected in the deal.” *What’s my next move, then?” “That’s for you to decide,” said Hamilton. “ But one thing is a cinch. You’ve got to find out who’s working for Korbeck. “You haven’t got the usual way to find out, either. The police have stool pigeons that are sometimes effective. You have nothing but your own native intelligence. “IT should say you’d have to go down and fit yourself into the atmosphere.” Rand nodded. “T think you’re right.” Hamilton regarded the end of his cigar thoughtfully before he spoke again. “You said something about your fiancée taking this job at Korbeck’s. You realize the danger, of course. Does she?” “To succeed in this means every- thing to both of us,” said Rand. ‘‘ She’s game, Mr. Hamilton.” Hamilton smiled, a trifle wistfully. “I'd like to meet that girl, There are all too few women who are willing to run any risk to held their men, You’re a lucky scoundrel, Rand.” “Thank you, sir. And now I think I'll be off. Perhaps I can pick up some dope about this Conover business,” “Don't forget to call on me 1f you Gomichbooks (C@