Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 25, 1924 — page 64: what you’re looking at

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

‘54 a savage joy to land his fist in the leering face of the politician, but it was a mistake. He had imperilled not only his own life but that of Margot, whom he shielded with his body as best he could while he backed slowly away from the shrieking mob. Pedro Valdez was a greater power and a more popular figure in Rio than he had ever imagined. With a forward surge, the crowd scat- tered the ineffectual group of waiters who ‘were trying to protect their “ boss” and George was able to save himself only by snatching up a chair and swinging it wildly in their faces. His assailants wavered, then with greater fury than ever they leaped at him, and knives were drawn. George instinctively felt in his hip pocket, remembering as he did so that he had not brought a gun, but the gesture had its effect on the gang, and as they hesitated the piano at the other end of the hall broke abruptly into crashing chords, followed by the shrill outcry of a terrified woman. The fringe of the mob nearest the plat- form turned to see a girl struggling in the arms of a young ruffian, the rest craned their necks and some leaped on to chairs to see over their neighbors’ heads. For a moment George was forgotten. Tina and Jean Lenoir were dancing the Danse des Apaches with a realism that made it look like a deadly assault. A second of time was all that George needed. He had dragged Margot to the door of the café, jostling aside the curiosity seekers who came running in, and was lost in the crowd on the sidewalk. A taxi driver slowed down to see what the trouble was all about. George flung open the door, shoved the girl in ahead of him and directed the chauffeur, “ Hurry! Drive like the deyil! Beira Mar!” Before the igen gang of pursuers had swarmed out of the Café La Scala, the car had turned a corner and did not slow up until it had joined the stream of pleasure cars rolling along the Beira Mar, that boulevard that runs beside the sea. George slipped an arm about the trembl- ing shoulders of the girl who pressed against him as if seeking protection in the physical contact of her weakness with his strength. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Under his caressing fingers he could feel the fluttering of her heart, the breath came in gasps as if she had been running. He saw the terror in her eyes as the light from the street lamps fell upon her face. “Don’t worry, kid—Miss Margot, I mean. Don’t be scared! I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” She did not reply, only stared at him with those wide frightened eyes. She was like a child in the dark. “I’m going to get you out of this scrape,” he said. ‘ Don’t worry, dear, I’ll think of away. And we’re safe now. As long as we keep going, we’re safe.” “Where are you taking me?” she asked faintly. ‘“T don’t know yet. I’ve got to think of a place,” he admitted. “I don’t want to take you to my house, that’s the first place the gang will look. And it’s not alone the crowd from the café. - Pedro Valdez has got the police force in his pocket. I was a fool to have a set-to with a politician like that.” “Is he really so dangerous?” she whis- pered. ‘He got the chief of police his job. He’s as thick as thieves with every judge and magistrate and office holder and crook in Rio.” ‘““And you dared to use your fists on a man like that for my sake!” “You bet I did. I’d hand a wallop to the general in chief of the army or the- president himself if he bothered you. But the question is, ‘ How are we going to get away with it?’ I don’t think your hotel’s a safe place for you now.” “No, no!” replied Margot in alarm. “I never did feel safe there. There’s some- thing wrong about it. All kinds of queer looking men are hanging about the women who live there. It’s horrible!” “The worst of it is that I can’t count on your guardian to protect you. After what he did—after he tried to turn you over to Valdez, practically sell you to that big ruffian—” Margot sobbed. “Oh George, I don’t understand Guy any more. Since he came to Rio he’s gone all to pieces. He used to drink. Even in England he would take too COMMICLOOOKS (C@)