Adventure, December 1914 — page 154: what you’re looking at

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

152 Butler, the railroad baron, had paid him in the affair of the oriental ruby. Subtract this sixty thousand dollars, then add five thousand for a high-powered tour- ing car, and five more for lavish living in the past half-year, and you have a total of $117,000 which Mr. Carter had smilingly lifted from the pockets of the flower of New York’s flock of sheep-shearers. The status quo of the persuasive gentry was outrageous. It was unendurable. Re- prisals were in order—something to restore a shattered prestige. The nature of them, however, called for elaborate consideration, and meanwhile Mr. Carter went blithely on his way. Two million dollars were coming to him, according to Mr. Drew, when his starter should have grown sufficiently, and in the interim he wasn’t exactly running into debt. The world looked fairly good to him as he and his secretary, Mr. Percival Teeters, sometimes known as “Merciful Skeeters,” went down to dinner in the Hotel Rirebien one brisk November evening. It was Mon- day the 14th, by the way—the beginning of a week which made copy for the newspapers and pulp of the effete argument that there’s no such thing as luck. JEAN, the head waiter, conducted them to their table over in a corner by the window. This table was sa- cred to Mr. Carter’s use, for Jean was that young gentleman’s slave, bound to him in ~ chains of golden tips. ‘Say, Come-On, she’s here again!’’ whis- pered Mr. Teeters as they followed Jean across the room. ‘Stale stuff,” Charley answered. her first.” ‘‘She’s the goods, all right,”’ asserted Mr. Teeters. ‘They didn’t send her here by parcel-post. She flew down from a star.” ‘‘Sure,’”’ said Charley. ‘‘Venus.”’ He grinned at Mr. Teeters who was feel- ing of his tie to make certain of its proper angle. They were inducted into their seats by Jean with solemn ceremony. When they had given their orders to the waiter they glanced at the table abreast of theirs. A very pretty woman sat facing them. She was young and handsomely gowned, and she was alone. She had occupied the same seat the night before. Jean could tell why: she had picked it out and paid for it. 1?? ‘Saw Adventure This charming creature raised her eyes as Mr. Carter and his secretary looked at her. They were friendly eyes. One more skilled in women than either Mr. Carter or Mr. Teeters would have called them, also, com- petent eyes—eyes that knew their business and went about it. men saw only the friendliness in them and were elated by it. She had not looked at them in that way the previous evening. She had kept her eyes on her plate and allowed them to feast upon her comeliness. But twenty-four hours make a difference. It engenders a neighborly feeling to dine two evenings in succession at companion tables. One may be permitted to show it—discreetly, of course. ‘““Gee!”’ said Charley under his breath to Mr. Teeters. ‘‘Wish I knew her. Wonder who she is?”’ | ‘‘Somebody’s darling with a return-ticket pinned in her sash,’”’ commented Mr. Tee- ters sagely. ‘‘They marry that kind the day they’re born. Don’t take any chances.” ‘‘No ring on her finger,” demurred Char- ley. Mr. Teeters cackled scornfully. “Huh! Some churches don’t wear a steeple, but they’re churches all the same.”’ They glanced at the lady again, and again her eyes met theirs. The flash of a hum- ming-bird’s wing is not more evanescent than the smile that curved her ripe red lips—but she smiled! That was the point. Mr. Teeters sat up in his chair and straightened his dinner-jacket. He was glad he had put on the new crépe dress-shirt which had, in his own words, ‘“‘set him back six bucks.” It became him to a miracle, his partial glass had told him, and now he was making a killing with it. A deuced good investment, if anybody asked! “Maybe she’s out at grass,’’ he sibilantly suggested to Mr. Carter. ‘“That’s the rea- son she ain’t wearing a license-tag.”’ ~ Charley failed to catch him. “What?” he queried. “Divorced,” prompted Mr. Teeters. ‘Hole in the net and hubby swam out. She’s feeding on the alimony right now. Betcher.’’ Charley surveyed his secretary quizzi- cally. “How will you find out?” he demanded. ‘“‘Ask Jeen,”’ rejoined Mr. Teeters, who had a way of anglicizing names to suit his GomiiGcordook But the two young: C@