Black Mask (Vol. 22, No. 2 — Mary 1939)

Dear Jim:

I hope you appreciate what I’m doing for you and old Crab-face. If you hadn’t saved my life when Rocco Petroni had me in a bad spot, I’d tell you to go to hell and take my job with you. Then I’d still be on the outside of the high board fence that surrounds this nudist camp, but I’m on the inside — outside my clothes! There just wasn’t any other way.

The guy who runs this place is a friend of Priscilla’s. She has been here before, and I can see now that she planned the whole thing ahead of time. What a sucker I am! I should have brought her down with a flying tackle when she bolted away from the car and made for the gate. At the time, I hammered on the gate and yelled, “Come out of there before I come after you.”

She yelled back, “Come in and get me! You’ll have to strip first though because no one with clothes on is allowed in here. That’s a camp rule!”

Well, Jim, I told the guy who runs the camp to open up because I was coming in and that I wasn’t going to strip. He stalled me for about five minutes and then let me inside the gate, but Priscilla wasn’t anywhere in sight. I figured she was in one of the locker houses where you leave your clothes before going into the inner sanctions of the camp proper.

“Listen, mugg,” I told the owner. “I’m responsible for that girl and you’ve got to get her back here with her clothes on.”

Now, Jim. This guy was big enough to be the whole backfield in a football team all by himself. He just smiled and doubled up his fist where it was hooked into the top of the shorts he was wearing. I found out later he just wears the shorts when he answers the gate.

“Priscilla is of age, young man,” he said. “If you want her, get her father to swear out a warrant. It’ll take a court order to get her out of here, unless you want to go see her yourself and try to persuade her to leave by her own free will.”

He grinned and added, “Our rates are six dollars a day for room and board. You leave your clothes over there in the locker house. And don’t start anything rough, or you’ll end up in jail. This is a refined camp catering to only the best people who want to build themselves up with the helpful aid of Mother Nature.”

I went back over to my car and asked the guy in the roadside restaurant about the camp.

He told me there was another gate around at the back of the place and that if I didn’t want Priscilla to get away, I’d better go inside where I could keep an eye on her. So here I am feeling like a ripe tomato blushing all over.

I’m sticking around the locker house because I caught one glimpse of Priscilla down by her tent and know that she isn’t going to leave by the other gate without her clothes. They’re in the locker house because the owner let me take a look for myself.

I haven’t had a talk with Priscilla yet, because I’m waiting until we have dinner tonight. Everyone wears shorts at that time. That’s one camp rule I’m in favor of.

I don’t know whether I’ll be able to persuade her to leave. She’s holding all the aces in the deck and knows it! You better wire her father to come and get her, because I can’t stay here watching her forever.

What will Mary say if she finds out? Good night! You know how jealous she is. She won’t even give me a chance to explain. I’ll be in a divorce court before we’ve even had our honeymoon. That’s why I’m sending this airmail special delivery. Do something — fast! Why did you have to borrow that dough from old Crab-face anyway?

Your worried Tarzan,

Les.