Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 48: what you’re looking at

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

e Blissfully unaware that a couple of pri- vate detectives were devoting their working hours to him, Harry Hilwin puffed peace- fully upon an expensive cigar and waited for Ruth. She came, a sweet and demure vi- sion in a gray costume, and so different was she from the befurred and befluffed damsel of the night before that she had to smile at him to be recognized. “T had the hardest time getting here. Three of the girls tried to pull me to the Plaza with them, and a man friend of mine overtook me on the Avenue in his car and put up the most persistent argument that 1 should go for a ride with him.” “Tm flattered.” “Vou’d better be. Let’s get our tea. I’m growing to be a regular English girl with my tea at four o’clock. It’s funny how you get into a habit, isn’t it?” “T hope you'll get the habit of having tea with me.” “How well you work,” said Ruth with mock admiration. Chattering thus they passed into the tea room. Figuring they were safe for an hour, the dark, foreign- looking man went away on a little business. “ How is it you have time to take girls to tea in the afternoon. Aren’t you in busi- ness?” she demanded when they had set- tled themselves comfortably. ‘“Why—er, ’'m not doing anything just at present,” Harry explained in some em- barrassment. ‘I’ve got a couple of deals on that may keep me pretty busy soon, but I hope I can always find time to do things with you.” ‘What is your business when you are working at it?” she asked with true female inquisitiveness. “Tm what you might call a promoter. I sort of give things a push and get them going.” He was thinking of his play ven- ture of the early afternoon. ‘“‘You must come to the house and meet father. He is the dearest thing. Let’s me do anything I like. a regular playmate when I want him to be.” Harry thought of the cold, sardonic, ex- acting old slave driver who had pitched him out so unceremoniously, and tried to fit him into the picture painted by his daughter. But he couldn’t It was too much. Never interferes, but ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. The conversation became more intimate. Ruth was obviously interested in Hilwin. Actually he was the first man who had se- riously attracted her in her three seasons of dinners and dances. He felt her sweet- ness and her charm, and he did not try to deceive himself that he was not rapidly fall- ing in love with her. Under normal con- ditions he would have let himself go. 7 But who could tell what was going to happen to him in the next few weeks or months. If he should meet her father, how quickly the old man would send him about his business, if he did not advise the police to find out where he got the money he was spending. While Ruth was deciding to herself that she would see a lot of Hilwin, he was endeavoring to steel himself against ever seeing her again. With the result that he agreed to join a group for dinner and theater next night, he to call for her at her home. And that’s the way they left things. The foreign-looking operator had been back at his post for an hour before Harry brought Ruth out and placed her in a taxi- cab Jake, Bill and Millie had been wait- ing for him for half an hour when he ar- rived at the meeting place next day, accom- panied by a lawyer recommended to him by Bill Cromwell. All the way up in the taxi, the lawyer, Tom Evans, a friendly and in- telligent young chap, had been trying to dissuade Harry from the theatrical venture. If he had been able to listen in on the con-. versation in Jake’s office before their ar- rival he would have tried harder. “It’s this way,” Jake was explaining. ‘‘ After I left your flat, Millie, I got to fig- uring out that we’d better get the best script and best score we could find for this show, since we have a chance to clean up our- selves on it. Now this ‘ Queen of My Heart’ is a bunch of junk, and the score ain’t so good. Bill played it over. So we hunted around and found a piece that’s a lot better.” | ‘You ain’t even going to give the poor gink the show he bought?” scoffed Millie. “We're going to give ourselves a run for our money. This fellow who wrote ‘ Queen of My Heart’ wanted regular royalties, but we found an author aaodcaern hei thes