Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 103: what you’re looking at

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

ee == - trio towel, spread it over them. The electric ‘ iron was soon hot, and Hill began his press- ine—a saving of fifteen cents, enough to buy a breakfast. The watchman’s rude hand rattled the knob of the outer office door. Hill held his breath, waiting for the man’s passing. The knob rattled again and a fist beat on the glass panel. Hill darted to the door. Remembering in time his airy costume he flattened himself out of sight, all but his head, and opened a cautious crack. | “Oh, it’s you!” came the friendly growl. *‘T see your light burning and not getting no answer was coming in to turn off the juice. Excuse me, Mr, Hill!” as Ee visite all right, Murphy. Just working late— << “ You’re a great worker, Mr. Hill—” “Yes, business keeps me hustling, old man!” At the moment he wished Murphy in the devil’s clutches, but so friendly a smile did the young man give him that Murphy thawed and lingered. “Tt’s been hot,” he stated with a gossipy sigh. “I was saying to: me wife to-day if this heat don’t let up—” “Ves, yes, that’s right!” Hill fee : narrowing the crack of the door. “You look as if you was feeling it, too! You look peakedlike, Mr. Hill. You'd ought to be careful, these hot days—”’ “Yes, thanks, I'll be careful—” Hill broke off as the icy hand of fear squeezed his heart. His nostrils had caught a stray- ing, errant wisp of scent—the scent of scorching woolen. That confounded elec- tric iron! He had left it sitting on his trousers. “It’s a matter of proper eating. I say,’ Murphy was expounding genially. “ Now take you, probably you’re eating too much. Sure, everybody eats too much in hot weather. You should skip a meal now and then—”’ “Yes, all right, Murphy. Sure, old man. Excuse me now!” Gabbling agreement Hill began to close the door. Murphy’s broad toe caught it suddenly and wrenched it _ wider. Murphy’s eyes were wide, nostrils dilated. = 513 “Do you smell an; ything?” he demanded. *“ Do you smell smoke?”’ “No!” Hill roared and slammed the door as Murphy hastily withdrew his foot. He bounded like some Grecian dancer to- ward the stockroom. A cloud of smoke poured from his trousers, his best trousers— his only trousers! He snatched up the hot iron, burning his fingers in the act, and groaned at what was revealed. He had bought the suit that spring, in the flush of his prosperity. It was a delicate gray suit, immensely becom- ing to him. In that suit, with his new straw hat, carrying his cane, his shoes shined anew, Hill could still feel himself a million- aire, even while he lacked subway fare. And now the electric iron had branded his trousers with an indellible brand of brown; scorched cloth. No tailor’s artifice could — ever erase that mark, Hill knew. Even Napoleon, no doubt, had his mo- ments of defeat. Hill saw the damage to his pants and declared in a stony tone: “I can’t go: That settles it. I’m smashed!” He sat down on the packing case with a great show of stoic resignation. “Busted!” — he observed to the barren stockroom. Mad with despair, he crumpled up the _ offending trousers and raised his arm to hurl _ them out of sight. The arm lowered slowly: “Alice!” Hill muttered. ‘“* What in the world will become of Ber how? Out of a job! Alice!” Instead of hurling the trousers he shack them out and drew them on. He donned the coat hurriedly, and taking down the office toilet kit from its hook, propped it on a chair where he could see his reflection in its little mirror. His back to the mir- ror, Hill peered anxiously, stooping, stand- ing erect, studying the elusive reflection with an earnestness that made him nearly cross- eyed. “T’ll be sitting down, mostly,” he observed hopefully. “ And the rest of the time I can back against a wall, or keep be- hind Moody. Anyhow, the coat almost covers it—and I’ve got to go through—for Alice!” Speaking of bravery, ; aS we are, what is there among the catalogued deeds of the val- liant Ulysses to compare with the courage - of Morgan Hill, who went to the most im- (EOPMIEOOOKS Com