Adventure Magazine, Mid-September 1917 — page 125: what you’re looking at

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

Appreciating Peter pain and faced Peter with much vile lan- guage. He advanced on the older man menacingly. “Stand back!”’ Peter warned. “Get out! She’s mine. I'll take care of my business. She’s mi 8 ‘‘Not yours to beat!” cried Peter valiantly and as the other rushed at him, threatening destruction, he grasped his cane-handle firmly, lifted the tip as a dueling gentleman would balance his rapier, swayed forward on well planted feet and with a hiss of breath through his teeth thrust mightily. The other man’s breath came out, too, with a gulp—as the cane rammed into his stomach, and he stopped and doubled and groaned, leaning against the lamp-post. Peter lowered his stick slowly, not quite certain that the affair had ended, glared in swift-breathing indignation at his van- quished foe, gave his head a severe, twisting nod and, wheeling with a squaring of his stooped shoulders, moved toward the girl. “My dear young lady,” he said, some of the tensity going from his voice with each — word, “‘you’ll walk with me.”’ He offered his arm and Mamie, searching his face with her great black eyes, half timidly rested her trembling hand in its crook and moved beside him. The fire left Peter’s eyes; the fixity of the lines about his mouth dissolved and the expression again became complacent, tranquil, a hint of amusement replacing the sternness of a mo- ment before and the only indication of dis- turbance whatever was evidenced in the ringing blows of his cane as it smote the pavement with the unconscious vigor of resentment. The girl said nothing for a time. Her breath caught in repeated sobs and each time Peter squeezed her hand against his side and said: ‘““There, there!” until her breathing was normal. With a ball of a handkerchief she dried her tears and giving a sorry little laugh said: ‘“‘Mister, you get my vote! Ifyou hadn’t come along I’d be without nothin’.”” She held out the purse ruefully. ‘“‘As ’tis I lost my home,’’—bitterness in the voice—‘‘but I hung to my nine dollars.” Peter eyed her speculatively. **Y our—husband?”—dryly. Mamie looked up at him and away and sniffed. ‘“‘That’s what some thought.” Peter still looked at her; not specula- “evening before. 123 tively; neither with pity. Sympathy re- flected in hisface. Peter never presumed to lash another with pity. He just tried to understand. “Well, nine dollars will go quite a ways, used judiciously,” he said, optimistically. “If I can be of any service—advice or any- thing— Let’s walk up this street; it’s quieter; we can talk this thing over.” - They turned and their pace slowed, the tapping of the cane became less vigorous and finally ceased altogether as Peter How- ard listened, dropping his head lower and lower, leaning a bit toward the girl, as if in conscious attitude of the protector. People always were eager to talk to him, it seemed. Mamie, in spite of a past that, though not unusual, is abnormal, was very much of a person, a human being. Open- ing her miserable, sick, frightened heart to Peter Howard that night opened a way to a way of living that was more usual, nearer normal. = PETER was among the first to | answer the unglad tintinnabulations = of the breakfast-bell at Mrs.Brandt’s the next morning. That lady herself sounded the call, her tinfoil curlers subdued but not concealed by a boudoir cap designed with no sense of the emphasis of repression, her temper at the indisposition of her second girl finding spiteful vent in the clanging summons. Peter Howard rubbed a palm calculat- ingly across his chin after looking into his landlady’s forbidding face. Then he ven- tured: “Mrs. Brandt, I had no opportunity to tell you last night, but I rented your second floor back. A young lady— She came to the door when you were out, it seems. No one else answered the bell. I knew you were anxious to have the room taken, so in your absence I showed it to her and ie ‘‘Absence! You let her in without i “Oh, no; indeed, no. She was quite business-like about it; she had so little lug- gage with her that she,’’—a step sounded on the stair and Peter turned guiltily to see Mamie standing at the head of the flight— “that she insisted on paying a week in ad- vance. Here——” The feel of crisp bills in her hand placated Mrs. Brandt. She had not been away the She was quite sure she oO COMmMicloo® S I wasn’t out of this house! C©