Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine — page 137: what you’re looking at

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

BACK TO THE MOIL. modern product that hates grooves like an incipient traitor hates Clémenceau, the Tiger of France! ‘And here you want me to put on an- other of these blasted old automatons, that walks up and down instead of ahead—” “He’s younger than I am,” interposed Lemp, wearily mopping his damp brow. “Yes, he is, not!” yowled Lloyd, “You're the youngest man in this con- cern!”’ “He'll work his head off for you,” put in Edward again. “He hasn’t any head to work off!” growled Lloyd. ~“‘ He’s an old woman!” Lemp nodded slowly and rose. “ Yes, I guess he is,” he admitted with deep guile. “T see I can’t camouflage him any to you. I’m sorry to have taken your time, old man. You see, he’s an old friend of mine, as I told you, and I figured it’s only a matter of the chance, anyway. It’s up to him to win or fail. And we need a man, right away. Well, I'll tell him. By-by!” “Wait!” Lloyd banged the table again and scowled down at it. Lemp waited, his face and his dark eyes inscrutable, while his cunning leaven worked quickly. “Tell him V’ll put him on!” exploded Lloyd, glowering affectionately at the man who looked like Balzac. ‘‘ You win, you old arch-plotter with the limber tongue! “ But I don’t want to see him again, and he’s got to make good, right from the very start. “Tell him to get back to Rochester. I'll write him instructions there. And get t’ hell out of here!” The spring twilight was deepening. After a hasty early dinner, served in jig- time for the jubilant Osgood’s convenience, he stood, bag in hand, at the door to the Lemp’s apartment, mouthing his exuberant farewells. He was going to catch a subway train for the station, and was explaining his abrupt- ness in deciding to-return thus precipitately . to the moil. He had explained it about a dozen times. Unleashed like mountain torrents had been his speech since Lemp returned to the office with the glad news. Yet its scope 479 was singularly restricted. It concerned only the “ life saver ” of the new job. ‘““ Abbie will be so pleased, so relieved!” he bleated. “ I’m glad I sent her that tele- gram first thing. How can I ever repay you, Ed, for your kindness, and you, Mrs. Lemp? It’s great to know a fellow has such friends in the world, when he’s down and out! “T wish I could stay over to-night and to- morrow to visit the theater and see a little of the town, as you both suggested; but I don’t feel I can afford the time. I must get back to Rochester and prepare to start the new job as soon as Mr. Lloyd sends in- structions. Oh! I feel now as if I could breathe again!” Eunice had grown used to his fantastic exuberance by this time. She only smiled tolerantly. A transitory shadow of worry renewed traversed Osgood’s brow, and snarled it into its accustomed creases. ‘ I wonder if I can hold this new job?” he quavered. ‘I’m getting along in years!” : Thrusting back a pitying disgust, Lemp rallied him for the mth time. ‘ Youw’re all right, Tom. A man is only as old as he feels.” He added: ‘‘ Mrs. Lemp and I would be glad to see you and Mrs. Osgood if ever again we get up in the dear old country. Where in the city are you living now?” “Oh,” answered Osgood, ‘‘ we’re not in the city. For the last year we’ve been liv- ing out on the farm, in the town of Daphne, and I’ve been taking the trolley into town. Didn’t-I tell you? I guess I was too wor- ried about losing my job to think of any- thing else. But, thanks to you, Ed, I’ve got my foothold again.” “What farm is that you’re on?” asked Lemp. ‘‘ One you’re renting, I suppose.” “Oh, no,’ answered Tom, rather in- differently. ‘I own it!” Lemp’s dark eyes dilated as he pursued: “You remember old William Beck’s farm? That’s it. He was my uncle. He died and left it to me.” “ Well,” gasped Lemp after a stunned moment, “ what have you been worrying about? Don’t you work it?” “What do I know about farming?” an- commiclooolks.comnn