Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 87: what you’re looking at

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

WORLD BRIGANDS. picking up acts. What can I do for you, gents?” “We want to go back and meet the French dazzler,” stated Roger. ‘“ And we want you to introduce us and say the proper thing to interest a French mademotselle.” “Tell her how rich you are,” grinned the manager. “I don’t think you boys have a chance. Lord Hum- phries has taken her under his wing.” “That old cockalorum will have to take a back seat from now on,” Roger replied confidently. “ Come on, Abrams. Dick here will make it worth your while.” “T’ll see what I can do,” said the manager. “ Wait here, please.” “'That’s the way to handle those chaps,” said Roger. “ You'll have to slip him a five pun note, Dick. I’m flat.” : “As usual,” smiled Dick. “ Here, you give it to him. You can do it with the air of conferring a pension.” In a few moments Abrams was back. “ She’ll give you a few minutes,” he puffed.- “I had to use all my in- fluence, I-can tell you.” “Good man,” admired Roger. “With this piece of paper you can go far.” He thrust on the manager the five pound note, which Abrams accepted ‘ without embarrassment. “This way, boys,” he warned. He led them out of the lobby, down a narrow alley and through the stage door. Stage doors in 1940 had not changed in any degree from those of the first quarter of the century. The manager tapped on a dressing room door and pushed it open. At- tired for the street in a mouselike cos- tume of gray, the diseuse awaited them. Dick, who knew his com- panion thoroughly, sensed the dismay of Roger Tuttle. oger had rushed back to meet a bird of Paradise and ‘saw an English sparrow, though Renée was not English. She smiled and some of her charm returned. 227 “Son of Sir Augustus Tuttle and son of Richard Boswell, big American millionaire,” heralded Mr. Abrams. “Off their heads about you, made- motselle. So long.” , Renée laughed delightfully. “Tt is ze grreat honor, shentlemen. I ’ave heard of Sir Augustus Tuttle, and I adore ze Amerricaines.” “We wish to congratulate you, mademoiselle, upon your perform- ance,” said Dick perfunctorily. “You like? Bon. I’ope you come often. Is zat all?” “ Mademoiselle,” said Roger, who had come again under her spell when she smiled and spoke, “that’s just the overture. We thought you might ac- company us to the Club de Nuit de Paris.” “I ’ave visited it last night and all. +B | ze ozzer nights,” she replied. “I am disappoint. You are not irés originale, messieurs.” “We should be pleased to escort you anywhere in London, pleased and proud,” said Dick. “It is dommage, but I have engage- ment for to-night. It is very dull, Londres.” “Always was until you came,” re- torted Roger. “ Think of something very snappy, Dick. We’re losing her.” Renée laughed heartily and Dick joined her. “Perhaps you might permit me to arrange an entertainment for you less stereotyped than London’s usual,” he ventured. “If you will promise us your first free evening, I’ll promise you something not in the least dull.” “To-morrow night,” said Renée promptly. “ You are more resource- ful, monsieur, than your friend. But you must not disappoint. I expect something bizarre.” _“ Fear not,” Roger exclaimed. “ Old Dick is the lad. It was he who took a whole chorus bathing in the Serpentine at midnight.” “ Exensez-moi!” cried Renée. “TI like not the bath in cold water.” Eo comrlcbooks