All-Story Weekly, Vol. 112, No. 1 — page 137: what you’re looking at

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

THE NINETY-NINTH PROPOSAL. tions of his wife, but the library was re- served exclusively for him and this refuge was jealously guarded by Sims, the butler. Thus it was a credit to Billy’s ingenuity and a reflection upon Sim’s efficiency that that young gentleman was able to slip into the quiet rooms and close the door behind him unobserved. He stodd regarding the head of the house of Van Zandt who sat before the fire with the book-shelves and portraits of a large number of past Van Zandts as a background. Mr. Van Zandt did not hear him come in nor see him after he entered. He was absorbed in the evolution of an excuse for increasing the fares of an electric railway he was interested in—an excuse which would neither arouse patrons to any very high pitch nor irritate the newspapers to any extraordinary extent—-a problem worthy of the financial brains inherited from a long line of money-making ancestors. There were many arguments to support the claim for increased fares. For instance, and to begin with, the item of labor alone— “ Mr. Van Zandt!” The great man looked up suddenly and blinked with surprise and irritation. ‘May I speak with you for a moment, sir?” asked Billy respectfully. . Mr. Van Zandt removed his glasses, wiped them, readjusted them. ‘ Sit down, Knapp.” ‘“ Thank you,” said Billy with relief, seat- ing himself. “What is it you wish to speak to me about?”’ “‘ T’ll soon puncture that businesslike atti- tude of his,” thought Billy. Aloud hé said: “‘ Ah—I—I suppose you have noticed me about quite a bit lately?” “‘ For about twenty years,” said Mr. Van Zandt, disconcertingly; “‘ you’ve lived here that long, haven’t you?” ‘“‘ Twenty-three years,” corrected Billy. ** T was born here.”’ “‘T didn’t think you were quite that old,” observed Mr. Van Zandt. “Yes, twenty-three,” said Billy stoutly. “Old enough to begin to think about the serious things of life.” “Tm glad somebody is beginning to think about them,”’ smiled the older man. 127 “But I didn’t mean the fact that you had noticed me merely in the town,” ex- plained Billy. ‘‘ I meant, hadn’t you no- ticed me about your house a great deal lately?” ‘“‘ Sometimes,” mused the other, “ I’ve wondered if you were not living here!” Instead of feeling nonplused at this, Billy accepted it as a favorable sign. Very likely Mr. Van Zandt would welcome the oppor- tunity he was soon to have accorded him to order Billy out of the house forever. ‘‘T suppose you have wondered why I came here so often?” __ “On the contrary, considering the kitch- en bills, I’ve wondered that you didn’t ask for permission to move in.”’ Billy reddened a bit at this. The remark was under the belt—literally and figura- tively. ‘“T don’t come here for food,” he snapped. “No? Well, I’ve often suspected that you came so often this spring because you were enamoured of my second daughter’s charm—Nanny, I mean.” “Why, Mr. Van Zandt, you’ve hit the nail plumb on the head!”’ “T hope I hit it hard enough to drive it clear through the plank to the other side.” “The other side?” Billy couldn’t sup- press his curiosity. | ‘“‘ Because on the other side there is a stone wall, Billy.” “Meaning you don’t favor my suit.” ‘You haven’t got any suit; you are merely in some kind of a state of mind.” “You were in that state of mind your- self once, Mr. Van Zandt.”’ “What’s that?” roared the other. ‘““T say you were in love yourself once, Mr. Van Zandt.” ‘Dont’ be impertinent, young man. Who said anything about love?”’ Billy thrilled. Nanny’s tears would yet flow in sympathy for Mr. Van Zandt was getting mad. He would goad him on—and with the truth. ‘“‘T love your daughter, Mr. Van Zandt.” The older man closed his book and care- fully laid it upon the table under the read- ing-lamp. He lifted his brows inquiringly. “I wish to marry her,” continued Billy, awaiting the expected explosion. comiclboolk C©