The Argosy, March 27, 1920 — page 116: what you’re looking at

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

266 steadier; and to-day, oddly enough, under the spell of the impending seven, his atti- tude was not quite so diffidently apologetic. The man grunted, there, and snapped: *“Bver done anything in aircraft before?” Tt was quite evident that he had never looked at the application-blank; what he looked at was men. “No,” said Selfridge without following up with his usual, “but, ef cetera, et cetera.” Two days ago he would have pro- duced his well-worn diploma—and would have immediately killed his chance. Em- ployers have a nasty habit of insisting that ‘ there’s a reason ” for broken-down college men, The alert little man surprised him. “Good! Most of 'em claim that they’re expert mechanics at least, with an army training—and I fire em. In this shop we work, What can you do?” “ Anyth—” Selfridge began; and then he caught the look that. was starting into the other’s eyes, and altered his reply to: “I have no experience in manufacture.” The man looked at him sharply anil grunted: ‘‘ Huh, I don’t like that high-brow accent of yours for two cents; but the Na- tional will give anybody a chance. Could you '—he looked at Selfridge and grinned shrewdly—‘ do you know how to use dope?” No,” said Selfridge quite innocently, The man grinned again, ‘“ H-m, I guess you're telling the truth. If dope had been your trouble you’d have fallen for that, All right.” He scribbled on a slip: “ Re- port to Scudder, dope section, He'll show you how to use it. Twenty a week,” That was all. There was no inquiry as to whether the figure would suit. The quick-eyed psychologist at the desk sized up his applicants as he spoke to them,-and he always knew to an exact nicety just how badly they needed employment, Selfridge took his slip to Scudder feeling an elation which he had not known since his misfortune. As a matter of fact, he had never felt such a real satisfaction in his life before; he had never known the need of success. Scudder looked him over with scant ap- proval. He took the slip which consigned Selfridge to his care and growled: THE ARGOSY. ‘““H-m, another of Mitchell’s experi- ments, I suppose.” And he set Selfridge to painting wings. This was not a compli- ment; for it meant that Selfridge, in his opinion, did not have sense enough to apply dope to fabric, Selfridge, then, at last had what he had never hoped to have in his life—a job. For torturing ages thereafter it seemed to him»that he toiled with a breaking back and raw hands directing a fine spray of liquid color through an air pressure “ paint gun” against acres and miles of wing sur- faces. Yet he dared not stop or slack down; for he saw men, older than himself mostly, and even more anaemic, shirking now and then; and presently they did not come any more, The thought of not coming any more to this loathed occupation filled Sel- fridge with cold horror: for the insistent wo- man and the alternative fear of the outer dark. were very present menaces, He toiled with feverish steadiness, then, and his life was a hazy mist of gray paint and acres of gray wings and ages of gray days; though as a matter of fact he saw the grim woman who reckoned days by sevens but twice during that time. And presently his back ached less and he began to feel the airbrush nozzle as something other than a piece of red-hot metal; and he found himself doing almost as well as some of the girls who worked by his side in overalls. And just about then he was sud- denly transferred to the dope-room! Selfridge did not recognize the compli- ment. He worked in the forced draft of the dope-room for nearly half a day; and then he went out and deathly sick—and then he quit. Two weeks ago he would have toiled on in terror and would have died; but two weeks of “ experience” at a definite profession gave him a wonderful confidence. He went to Scudder and told him flatly that the fumes of that acetate were too much for him, and that was straight goods. Scudder looked at him searchingly for a minute. Then he said: ‘ All right. Knock off and call ita day, I'll see Mitchell about shifting you.” This in itself was amazing, As a shrill- voiced girl remarked pithily to another be- comicbookssacom