Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 6: what you’re looking at

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

162 ‘have been glued to the glass eight hours a day. Just then he ought to have been taking out the private office mail and stick- ing on the stamps. “ Kid,” I said, sternly, “if I tell you again to take out that mail, I’m going to speak to the boss and have you canned to-night!” “That'll be all right, chief,” said the accursed brat, ‘‘ but before you do the dirty work come quick and get an eyeful of this while it lasts!” And I’m hanged if there wasn’t something - so odd about him that I got out of my chair and walked over to his side—and the funny thing is, he was dead right! There was certainly at least one eyeful down there and, so far as I’m concerned, there were about two dozen! The boss—my personal boss, you know, Thomas F. Berford, president of the com- pany, son of the founder, the case-hardened bachelor that everyone said didn’t know whether the prettiest girl in the office was twenty years old or seventy and didn’t give a hoot in any case—the boss was standing down there on the curb beside nine thou- sand dollars’ worth of pale blue automobile and behind the wheel, all in one chunk, sat about ninety million dollars’ worth of girl. _ More, he was holding her hand and he looked as if he’d been holding it for some time; and she was gazing up at him as if— oh, there’s no use trying to describe the way she was looking at him. If some little flapper, away back in the ancient times, ever summoned up the nerve to look a real god in the eye and let him hold her hand, she must have looked at him just like that. And that wasn’t all, by any means. The boss himself raised his head and sort of sur- veyed the neighborhood as if he’d never really seen it before. He was smiling; he doesn’t do that so often. There was a kind of pinkish flush on his face, too, and as a rule he’s pale. Then the wonderful girl in the car said something to him and he burst out laughing, just like a boy; and he took her hand in both of his and squeezed; and she put out her other hand, and there they were for about a minute, just looking at one another! ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. And then something woke them up and they were all flustered for ten seconds or so; and after that she started the engine and drove off and Mr. Berford stood on the curb waving his hand after her! Queer? It was a lot more than queer. You’d have had to know Mr. Berford as well as I did, to realize how queer it all was. I just kept on staring, even after the boss had walked into the building. Jimmy poked my ribs. “Not so worse, chief—huh?” he said. ‘“‘ Not so worse for a guy like him? They got some slick ones, up to the Follies— huh?” ‘* Mail those letters!” I said. There was no Follies about that girl, though; she was just plain millionaire class and she was so infernally pretty that one felt sort of dazed, even after looking at her. from a distance and—well, Mr. Berford came into his office just then. He was whistling a jazzy little tune to himself! Id never heard him do that be- fore, and as a matter of fact, I haven’t heard him do it many times since—but he was whistling then, fast enough. Also, he’d brought the smile all the way upstairs with him. “Good morning, Henry!” he said. ‘““Good morning, sir!” I said. “Wonderful day!” he went on. «Ves Sir. “ Wonderful day!” said the boss, and ac- tually grinned at me; and then, instead of handing me his hat to hang up on the clothes tree in the corner, he sent it spinning through the air—and I’m blest if it didn’t land squarely on the peg at that! ‘“ Mail all ready for me, Henry?” he said, as he sat down behind his desk. “ Right there, sir!” He picked up the first letter of the pile I’d sorted out for his personal attention and put in about two minutes staring at it, holding it upside down. Then he dropped it and looked at me. “Henry!” he said. ficient, aren’t you?” ““{ hope so,” I answered. “How long have you been my secre- tary?” : ‘You're pretty ef- ; “ A little over three years now.” (COMMUCLIOOKS