Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 28, 1928 — page 23: what you’re looking at

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

THIEVES’ need help,’ said Hamilton. “ And I'll take care of your little stenographer friend in the morning. ‘Thirty-five a week, you said?” se Right.” “Well, good luck, boy.” CHAPTER VIIL. TWO MEN AND A GIRL, ‘T was not quite half past eight on Tuesday morning when Nick Eu- thopopolis swaggered into the office of the Empire Storage and Hauling Company. That is pretty early to at- tempt to transact business in New York outside of the food markets, but it was not too early for Morris lorbeck. That astute fence was at his glass- topped desk, yelling into a telephone: “ And why should I pay the West- chester Pad Company thirty-five dol- lars for seventy-two by eighty cut size pads when I can get ’em, better ones, from the Connecticut Quilt and Pad Company for thirty dollars?” There was a moment of silence, dur- ing which Korbeck’s eyes almost seemed to emerge like a crab’s, due to his excess of emotion. “Listen,” he cried hysterically, “I send you my check for twenty pads at thirty-one dollars or you can come and get the shipment. What? All right, Vil send the check.” Korbeck hung up the receiver and swiveled about in his chair. Then he saw Nick. . “What are you doing here?” His voice was cold, cruel. “ Look, I got some stuff coming up here from the Sterling Fur Company. That’s the drop-off, understand? “T know you*won’t do business di- rect with me, but there’s no shennani- gan goes with me, either. The Ster- ling Fur Company’s good enough for you. ‘They got an office and a book- keeper’s desk and everything. They packed this stuff in old boxes like you wanted it.” MARKET. 453 “ Well, what do you want then?” “ft want to watch the inventory of this stuff made, see? I want to see these furs counted. That’s all—count- ed. Then we'll all know whereat we stand.” “Sure, that’s fair enough,” said Korbeck. “ But you must have noth- ing to do with the papers to be signed.”’ “Say, fellow, try and get me to sign anything. Try and get me to.” Nick’s gesture accompanying this proposal was a stiff wave of his hand, palm down. In years gone by kings have used that same gesture as a signal to henchmen to deliver a subject to the executioners. “What I want from this Sterling Fur Company,” Korbeck added, “is a letter signed by an official of the com- pany and dated two years ago, putting the furs in storage. Then I want an- other letter from them saying these furs that have been in my warehouse for two years are for sale and would I like to buy ’em. Then I want a re- ceipt in full and a bill of sale.” “J think I get you,” said Nick, “ and I hand it to you, you’re slick.” * Ain’t I, though?” 7 Korbeck’s acknowledgment of the compliment was like that of a small boy confessing an tncanny skill at mumble-de-peg. A truck backfired in the loading cor- ridor of the warehouse, and Nick strode over to the window. “There’s the stuff now,” he said. “One, two, eleven, fourteen, yep, it’s all there, fourteen packing cases.” Nick’s hand was on the doorknob when he paused and said: “Say, when do I get mine, and how much?” “T give you five thousand dollars this morning and the rest when I sell the furs. Better than that I can’t do.” “Make it six grand,” urged Nick. “ There was six in the mob and a grand apiece will keep ’em quiet for awhile. When you sell the stuff how much more do I get?” CORMICLOOOLKK< (EO)