Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 161: what you’re looking at

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

ONLY CHEESE. we'll have thim make up, and get Pat rid of this tur-rible disease.” But Burke, though he accepted the invi- tation, showed no great enthusiasm. ‘This psychology works two ways,” he explained. ‘‘ Sometimes it kills but some- times it cures.” Mr. Conley sighed. “Tis all very strange to me,” he ad- mitted. ‘I never knew a disease to work but one way.” The meal began with soup, of that body and flavor for which Mrs. Conley’s soup was famous. There followed beefsteak, thick and tender; accompanied by a retinue of vegetables and side dishes that would have delighted any stomach. Yet the meal dragged. Pat ate, but he did not talk. His jaws moved, but not in conversation. Poor Liola had been seated beside him, but she re- ceived no more attention from him than did Manager Burke, his parents, or his four younger brothers and sisters. They might talk among themselves, as they did, to some extent, at Mr. Conley’s nudging and wink- ing; but Pat remained glum, sour, indif- ferent to all but the victuals on his plate. — Once Mr. Conley urged upon Miss Mc- Dermott a second helping of creamed po- tatoes, one of Mrs. Conley’s most famous dishes. “Don’t stint yerself wid these pertaters, Liola,” advised Conley, Sr. ‘‘ Pat likes thim this way, too. So it would be well, I’m thinkin’, if you would learn from Mrs, Con- ley how to cook thim.” At Mr Conley’s wink, Liola blushed, glanced somewhat hopefully toward Pat, and was at the sight of that unresponsive and adamant young gentleman cast into complete dejection. At the end came apple pie and coffee. Liola helped Mrs. Conley clear off the preceding course and bring on the last one; and all the while, with projected under-lip, Pat fixedly observed the exact center of the table cloth or the wall just above the head of Manager Burke, who sat opposite. Be- fore each diner the two ladies serving set a piece of pie. At each right hand they placed a cup of coffee. The last thing to be served Mrs. Conley left to Liola. ol7 Innocently Liola carried in her right hand a fork and in her left a plate upon which lay a dozen small and appetizing looking cubes. Innocently she went first to Pat, and with the fork placed one of the cubes beside Pat’s pie. There was on the way to Pat’s mouth his first bite of pie, but this never reached its destination. With some clatter it was returned to the plate when Pat noted what Liola had placed there. “Why Pat, what’s the matter?” cried Liola as he pushed his chair away from the table. ‘“What’s the matter?” repeated Conley, Jr., rismg and in his anger reverting some- what to the brogue of his ancestors. ‘‘ Do ye think I don’t see what ye’ve got speared on the end of that fork?” “Why, Pat, it’s only—” “Only cheese! Ye’re tryin’ to insult me! Ye’re tryin’ to remind me of the night I had the bad luck with O’Hern! I heard ye call me a big cheese! And ye’ve been callin’ me that ever since—every one of ye! I’m through with ye—all of ye! I'm With that Conley, Jr., marched from the table, out of the door of the house, and down the street. The pie was forgotten, even by the youngest of the Conleys, and Mrs. Conley and Liola had grown somewhat pale. “Shall I go after him?” asked Mr. Con- ley at last. Manager Burke remained calm, as a man- ager always should. ‘““T wouldn’t follow him,” he said. ‘‘ This may be the best thing for him when he sees O’Hern again. And as for you, Liola, you needn’t worry. When he tips over O’Hern next week it'll be you he thinks of first.” “ There’s one thing certain,” remarked Mr. Conley: “and that is he don’t like O’Hern.” “Yes,” agreed Manager Burke very slowly and thoughtfully. ‘‘ But what’s more, he don’t like cheese!”’ IV. Tue bouts for the amateur boxing cham- pionships were in progres, The, largest,