Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 7, 1922 — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

THE BIRD OF PASSAGE. Thereupon the old man took another box from his coat pocket and tapped that. That settled it, and all that the Professor had to do for the next ten minutes was to make change as rapidly as he could, for there was not a man, woman or child there, including Tom: Osborne and his daughter, who did not crowd in to see this unequal contest. “Two at a time! Two at a time!” he chanted as he took in the money, and when all had gone in he stretched a rope across the entrance, and ushered the two men and Johnny into the inclosure. The old man whispered to the lad: ‘“ Remember the Kelso Cross!”’ Johnny took his place between the two boards, confident and impudent. He was interested—displayed a great interest as the red-faced farmer put the hen down by the table leg, tucked her head under her wing, and drew several long strokes with his hand along her back. She clucked con- tentedly and settled down for the night, while her owner filled one cheek with to- bacco and turned back his coat cuffs. Number One took off his coat, folded it neatly, and put it over the back of his chair. Then he rubbed his hands dry with a handkerchief, polished his spectacles, and took his place, immediately cuddling his chin in the palm of his hand and never taking it out until the game was over. To make it more difficult, Johnny was to play with white men on one board and black men on the other. The ballyhooer flipped coins for the opening moves, and the play began—rapidly on the part of the man with the hen, for, like many a good man, he could not stand publicity, and his embarrassment was hurting his game. But Number One took it to heart and pondered long before he put out a hand and made his opening move. He had chosen to play give-away, and with almost uncontrollable delight the Professor saw him make the weakest of opening “shifts—one which in real checkers would have been the strong- est, but in the opposite was decidedly bad. The other player had made a weak one —on a numbered board it would have been g-14—and Johnny pounced on him with the 217 quickness of a cat. So the game went for ten minutes, with the advantage on each side with the lad, who whirled from one board to the other with a smile on his lips and an occasional glance at his tutor which said, “‘ Gee, what a lunch!” The crowd was with him, and he felt it. “Gol!” said the farmer with the hen, for Johnny had taken two of his men. But he was a sport and simply bent his head until it almost touched the board and went on with his work. Johnny moved his hand as slowly as the paw of a stalking cat and shifted his checkers millimeter by mnilli- meter. The Professor circled about the crowd, trembling with excitement and wishing to Heaven that he had a good dip with him, for he judged that there were many good leathers among the watchers. There were three ten-dollar bills pinned in the waist- band of his trousers, and after watching Johnny make two more moves he began to roam with that thirty in his hands looking for possible bettors. And he found then— Tom Osborne took ten on the proposition that Johnny would not win by more than two men apiec@ With thirty down and his hands lovingly cupped over the quarters and half dollars that weighed down his pockets, the Professor went almost mad from excitement, and when the sober young man would not admit that he had to take two of Johnny’s men but canvassed every possible move at least twice, he sang out: “Come along, friend, shake it up! This ain’t chess!” * There was no time limit set,” was the stern response. “Oh, my gosh!” said the Professor, and appealed to the crowd. He was crazy to have the thing over, to have the thirty plus its winnings back in his pocket, and another crowd as big as this one coming through the door at two bits a head. Like ihe addle-headed old vagrant that he was, he took a position outside the ring, where he tried to signal Johnny just what moves to make, and Johnny, seeing the strange contortions of his face, and knowing that something was expected of him, but not what, made his first error. TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK. comiclbooolx C©