10 Story Book, August 1938 — page 27: what you’re looking at

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

28 INTRIGUING STORIES, SPICED WITH PRETTY GIRLS! the Berkshires. Mr. Von Wedel had already phoned and she had pleaded a slight cold, a nasty headache. She was free for the night and safe, for although Reggie had a key, Mr. Von Wedel of course did not. She ought to have a bolt or chain put on that door—opening that way just right into her one-room efficiency. She let down the bed and lay awaiting her gigolo. se « *# Monday, and she took her time. Ar- rived at the office middle of the morning. She walked into his private office. Cort Von Wedel was alone, fiddling with a great stack of mail. “Why, um, ah, you’re late, dear!” “Yes,” she said coldly, “I’m late. So what. It doesn’t matter anyway. You can fire me if you like or I quit. I’m resigning. Get it?” “But why, well now my dear. . other . . . the . why, what’s the trouble?” The poor old coot, poor old love-starved thing! She knew his wife had been an invalid, that he had always been true to her, even true to her memory for a whole year after her death. This wasn’t so easy as she had thought because she had taken advantage of all that, had led him on, had definitely promised to marry him. Oh, well! “Yes, I’m calling everything off, Mr. Von Wedel. Sorry. I’m same as engaged to a boy of my own age. That’s how it is. I’m sorry. Truly sorry.” She gave him her slim beautiful hand. He took it dazedly, swallowed hard, answered her careless “goodbye” huskily, sat fingering his mail absently. And she was gone. Later in the day, the stenographer whom he had drafted to act as secretary announced Reginald Van Swerington, Jr. Mr. Von Wedel came out of his trance long enough to greet him, the son of his very closest and oldest friend. “I’m ’bout same as engaged, Mr. Von Wedel. It’s to your secretary. Dad says he wants me to marry for love—not any of that social position stuff, see — but thinks I ought to make certain she’s okay. You know, morally. I know she is but you know how tough-minded Dad is and old fashioned —old family honor stuff and all that sort of thing. I hate like hell to be checking up on her but I prom- ised Dad I would. He insisted I do*it myself — said if your report satisfied me, it would satisfy him. And, well, of course I wouldn’t marry a girl and bring her into the family if there was any question whatever and....” “No question whatever, boy.” The older man cleared his throat. “Eileen Coppick is as sweet, as pure a girl, as I’ve éver mét in my life, Reegie. She = . - she’s a good girl —TI could swear to that. I'll mention the matter to your father first time I see him.” “Well, er, thank you, sir. That’s a little bit of all right. Thank you.” “You love her a lot, don’t you boy?” “T’m simply silly, I mean I’m just mad about her, Mr. Von Wedel.” Reggie’s sister was home from finish- ing school, was throwing a week-end party up at the bungalow in the Berk- shires. “But, Reggie! I’ve just got to have you. I can’t get anyone else. It’s been too short notice and I’m lucky to have grabbed off Bernice and Howard and the others. I’ve simply got to have a part- ner for my roomy. You simply must come and... Can’t you be loyal, can’t your poor little steno sweetie wait a couple of days?” “Oh, all right,” grumbled Reggie. “All right, I’ll come.”” And he phoned Eileen that he just had to fulfill this one final family obligation. Eileen did not sound too disappointed. He misinterpreted that; thought: “She’s one swell little scout. oO ComicboOoks.c©