Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 5, 1928 — page 54: what you’re looking at

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

620 he’s got in those boxes. You just check the stuff into the warehouse and sign any name that occurs to you to some papers Korbeck will hand you. “This is raw silk, you know, and it’s about as easy to identify as one pint of sea water from another pint of sea water. “Tf you should be grabbed why, all you do is to say you were hired to ride on the truck'as a guard. We'll have a lawyer spring you before they get you to headquarters. But you won't be grabbed.”’ ‘The driver of the truck was a taci- turn man whose chin, for lack of teeth, was pressed up and out of sight, Andy Gump fashion, into a wilderness of am- ber-colored mustache. The steering wheel of the truck was mounted on an upright post so that the manipulation of it was not unlike the setting of a hand brake on a freight car. As they jolted eastward in Twenty- Third Street toward First Avenue for the trip. to Korbeck’s headquarters, Barry now and again heard the truck driver whisper an oath. Clutching the loop of metal secured to the side of the seat so as to keep from being bounced off he wondered if the driver was cursing him. “ What's troubling you?” asked. First taking time to swallow, the driver finally answered: “This is a lousy world.” “ When did you make that important discovery ?” “ Aw, I’ve known it for a long time; but what can I do about it?” “T don’t know, I’m sure. I'd like to make some improvements myself.” “ They tell me I got a load of silk here.” The truck chauffeur lifted one hairy hand from the wheel in order to point a thumb backward over his shoulder. “That's what they tell me, too,” agreed Barry, wondering when this queer person would get to the point of his rambling remarks. Barry ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “There might be a little jack in it for both of us if we could shift one of these boxes off and put another one in its place before we get to the ware- house.”’ “There might,” agreed Barry, “ but it would be stealing.” “It depends on how you look at it,” retorted the driver, but his tone was not argumentative and Barry wondered uncomfortably if the man knew that his load was stolen goods. Every time they were halted in a cluster of other vehicles by the whistle of a traffic policeman Barry felt a timorous wave of regret at his situa- tion. He did not mind risking his life, he thought, but he would hate to have ta defend himself from the charge of theft. In spite of all his regrets and worries he was warmed by something he did not analyze until the truck came within sight of the fortresslike cube of bleak walls that was the Empire Storage & Hauling Company’s stronghold. ‘Then he remembered: He might get a chance to see Jane while he was attending to his job as supercargo for a gang of land pirates. Any task that brought him in con- tact with Jane was a good task. He was whistling a fragment of a tune as the truck turned into the arcaded en- trance of the warehouse and backed up to a loading platform. Men with hand trucks were waiting to cart the packing cases into the depths of the huge building, and within a few minutes the cast metal wheels of these porters’ vehicles were clinking and squeaking in an unending procession as the boxes were triundled into the ware- house. “Hey, Charlie, does this stuff go to the fourth floor or up in them bins on the sixth?” The question was bellowed by a giant of a man with hairy forearms that rippled like those of a gorilla as he scratched himself uncertainly on the chin with a crooked middle finger. The EOPMIG OOO KS (F@