Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 11: what you’re looking at

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

WHERE Four of the five directors broke loose after a minute or so and raised shouts of rejoicing; and Mr. Berford grew paler and paler and I knew, if nobody else did, that he was getting madder than sixty, his an- nouncement not having been taken in quite the way he had intended—or rather, per- haps, having been taken in such a purely selfish way by the directorate that the pres- ident wasn’t feeling flattered, The director who did not lift up his voice in jubilation was Mr. Isaac Craven, He had started at the very first mention of the Storm name; his mean eyes had tak- en on a meaner little squint and fastened hard on Mr, Berford, and they had been there ever since. Now, as a sort of happy giggle died down Craven’s lips opened slowly. “ That—hey?” he said. “ What?” Mr. Berford asked. Craven nodded, just once, as if he under- stood a great deal. ‘Tt seems possible that your life may not have been quite the open book you have led us to believe!” he said, very distinctly, while the rest of them sat rather stunned. ‘¢ What the devil do you mean by that, sir?” Mr. Berford asked, and banged his fist down on the table. “IT mean that you’ve been secretly con- sorting with the family of George Storm, sir!” Craven cried, and banged down his own fist! ‘‘ I mean, sir, that in actual fact you are upon the friendliest terms with a— an individual fondly supposed by us to be your—as he is our—deadliest enemy, per- sonal and business! I mean to say, sir, that this smells amazingly strong of treason to our company and—”’ “Why, you confounded old fool!” Mr. Bennett shouted, and he has a big voice when he wants to use it. ‘“‘ You soured, doddering old—old idiot! You—pay no attention to him, Thomas! Pay no atten- tion and—” He said more, but it was drowned out by the uproar that was coming from Jones and Moreland and Macpherson about that time! They, too, were addressing Craven—and after about thirty seconds of the din they seemed to. be making an impression; old Isaac looked downright scared. WAS I? 167 Both Mr, Berford’s fists were clenched and he was. snow-white and his jaw stuck out as he waited. It was quite interesting! He waited until things were quiet and Craven had shut his old teeth tight to- gether and pulled down the comers of his mouth. “May I say,” the president began, so steadily that I knew he was having a dickens of a time to control himself, “‘ that of all things in the world, the possibility of having such construction placed upon my engagement to Miss Storm never occurred to me?” ‘Of course it never occurred to you!” Mr. Bennett thundered at Craven, ‘“ Why the Sam Hill should it occur to you? Why—” ‘* Just a minute, please! But since it has occurred to Mr. Craven and since he has voiced it with such charming candor, at whatever personal humiliation I insist upon explaining the matter as well as may be. jp SHES “No explanation is necessary!’ More- land cried. “Yes it is—and Craven’s going to get it!” said the boss, and his voice shook. “‘T met Miss Storm for the first time just five months ago. I have talked with her father, in his home, just four times. He is at least as frank as—and rather more happily poised than—Mr, Craven. In the plainest English, at the first interview, he laid down the proposition—and I accepted it—that out of business hours our personal relation had best be something like that which ob- tains between lawyers who fight tooth and nail on opposite sides of a case and after- ward go to dinner together!” “Naturally! Naturally!” Mr. Bennett puffed. ‘‘Storm’s a devil incarnate, but he’s not an ass.” ‘‘ He’s not even a devil, when you get ac- quainted with him, sir,” said the president, with a faint little smile. “Last night— specifically at half-past nine, in her own home,” he spat at Craven, ‘I became en- gaged to Miss Storm. About one hour later I talked for a considerable time with her father. He is, as are we, tired of fighting; he is not only open to—say, I'll be damned. if Pll go any farther with thes cxhla, g iguk