All-Story Weekly, March 1, 1919 — page 157: what you’re looking at

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

THE GROUCH. “What an absurd young man you are. If you can’t do better than that I’d advise Susie Trimble to look elsewhere. Mr. Pho- tographer, will you please tell Phil to do as I say?” “You, Phil! lady right!” “Better,” said Miss Dean, an instant later. “ Just keep thinking of Susie. Do you think you can manage to keep your arm there if I let go of it?” You go on and hug that Phil drew a deep breath and summoned all the gallantry within him. pee 62,1 needn't old it,” he said, boldly. “IT won’t let go.” “See that you don’t. Is everything ready for the picture?” “Ready, ma’am,” called the voice be- hind them. Miss Dean turned her fea so that her profile was presented to the camera and snuggled closely again Phil’s stalwart shoulder. ‘““Go ahead, Mr. Photegrapher!”’ There was a puff and a white flash, then the woods were dark again. onds elapsed. ““Oh, Mr. Photegrapher,” ‘said a voice, “now you can tell Phil to let go.” “ Phil, you unhug that lady—quick!”’ “IT was goin’ to,” grumbled Phil. “I was doin’ it when she spoke.” we Miss Dean was laughing softly. “ There’s hope for you yet, Phil. It was nice of you not to be in a hurry,” she as- sured him, as she groped her way back to where the camera stood. “ Do you think the picture will be all right?” “ Oh, I got it, ma’am,” said the photog- rapher. ‘If you’re comin’ down to the village in the mornin’ I’ll show you the negative.” ( “ But I don’t want it developed,” said Miss Dean, as she took the. plateholder from his hands. “ You’ve done everything I want you to do. I’ll just take this with me the way it is.” The head of the studio leaned closer to stare at her. “Really, this is all I want,” she said. *1’m ever so much obliged to both of you. Phil did splendidly, after he started. “Don’t worry, Phil; Susie won’t ever bit afraid,” she said. Sepaeal sec-_ know a thing. And don’t forget to let me know when the wedding takes place.” She made her way back to the road, hugging the plateholder- under her arm, and heard the photographer and his assistant crashing after her. “T'll walk back to the farm; I’m not a “No; I don’t want you to drive me. Please go back to the village.” ‘““ Just as you say, ma’am,”’ said the pho- tographer. “I don’t know what it’s all about, but just'as you say.” ‘““I—TI don’t mind seein’ you home,” mumbled Phil. “Phil!” exclaimed the lady. about Susie?” They heard her laughing softly as she set off along the road. The farm was cloaked in its evening quiet when Miss Dean turned in from the road. As she neared the house she met Mame ‘What Brundage, walking aimlessly in the direc- tion of the orchard. ‘“‘ Where you been?”’ demanded Mame: “ Walking, Marigold.” “Wish I’d been with you. It gets terri- ble lonesome here nights. There ain’t any- body around. ‘“ Mr. March, he’s gone to bed. ‘And Mr, Higgins is up at the lake, and I don’t know where Mr. Tilley is. "He’s been gone some- wheres since supper. Mom and pop’s down in the chicken house, tryin’ to set some hens. It’s an awful narrer kind of a life.” With a word of sympathy, Miss Dean passed on. Near the door of the farmhouse she waited until Mame had vanished from sight. Then she entered the building swiftly and groped her way toward the stairs that led to the upper floor. A minute later she emerged into the open again and walked off in the direction of the cottage. An hour later Augustus J. Tilley sat in his room staring at a flat object that he held in his hands. He was in a state ef sup- pressed excitement. For here was the miss- ing plateholder! He had found it lying on his bed. How or why*it came there were matters quite be- yond the present bewildered state of his mind. He knew that it contained a plate; R — —— ay oc o - nn! - _ " ~ , = ee Gp = — Pa