Argosy All-Story Weekly — "Sea Marauders" — page 50: what you’re looking at

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

a2 re <b Ce ; ics AT2 “That’s not it at all,’ Spofford hastened to correct him, ‘ You would not have a chance to crack that ranch, because Frank Winsome owned a mighty good safe in which he kept his valuables, one that his daughter prob- ably still uses. And furthermore, even if such a robbery were feasible, it’s not what I want. “Your assignment is to keep the ranch covered during the next three or four days, doing nothing until Peggy or her brother, or the two of them, start for Cactus Springs to pay me the three hundred dollars due on the first. Judging from past experience, they won’t come until the final day, and when they do start you are to get busy.” “ Holdup stuff, eh?” 8 “FExactly—with a soft pedal on anything too rough. Think you could manage it without trouble?” “ Humph!” Davis said confidently. “A cinch! You thinking I’d get any opposition out of a girl and a kid? That’s a hot one?” “T wasn’t looking at it from that slant,” Spofford said smoothly. “Rather whether you could turn the trick without being spotted. This prop- osition must be handled with discre- tion.” “Oh, I got you now.” He grinned impudently, glancing at his compan- ion. “If I buried my face behind a crop of alfalfa and so on, it ain’t likely either of them would know me. How’s that ?” “Tt would answer, I should imag- ine.” Spofford spoke with dignity, showing disapproval of his associate’s levity. “ But see that whatever you do goes through without any hitch. There is a good deal at stake.” “They won’t be no hitches, if I get anything like an even break,” Davis grumbled. “ But in case things do go wrong—lI’m expecting you to take care of me. I ain’t yearning for any session in the hoosegow, and I ain’t any too popular with Buck Morrison, either.” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “Just when has the sheriff made trouble for any of my agents?” Spof- ford inquired. “They’s always a first time, and three hundred dollars ain’t a whale of a fortune. If I’m going into the Jesse James business, I’d a sight rather it was made worth my while.” He paused significantly. “H-m! I see. Well, suppose we dou- ble the ante—provided you’re success- ful,” Spofford said diplomatically, a proposal greeted by Davis with greater enthusiasm than he had hitherto dis- played. “Now youvrre talking,” he asserted. “That gives me something to work for. Ill be as careful as a church. That six hundred will come in right handy. I been cramped lately as re- gards my pocketbook.” CHAPTER ITI. FATHER AND SON. T eleven o’clock on the morning which followed Peter De Quin- cy’s sensational début at the Red Front, Banker Spofford glanced at his watch, scowling; then pressed a push button on the desk. In prompt answer to his summons a clerk appeared, eying his employer questioningly. * “Ts my son at his desk yet?” Spof- ford demanded. “No, sir; Mr. Spofford hasn’t come in this morning.” The banker grunted; then: “ Tell Mr. Spofford, as soon as he reaches the office, that I want to see him.” “Very good, sir. Tl deliver the message.” ' Noiselessly the clerk closed the door, returning to his own tasks at the front of the establishment. “The old man’s on the warpath this morning,” he confided gleefully to an associate. “ When J. M., Jr., blows in, I bet he gets a dose of what’s what.” ‘“‘T hope he does,” was the vindictive answer. “ Makes me sick to see how tr ‘comicbooks.com — ~ ws = Sees aati: <* os a = . 33 < 1 a tee