Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 41: what you’re looking at

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

_ SUSPENSE. I seethed, turning to include the world at withering | glare—and — 3 met a sea of smiles. “The yellow map of a large in one single, — grinning Chink stood out above the rest. “Oh, lookee,”’ he chortled, silly. “ Just married—nice 1i’] blight’n. gloom! 2 Blight and gloom was right. After a while the gang run out of stock jokes and suggested we embark for the ferry. We done so, a new volley of fire — burning our ears like a sandstorm, while the crowd corraled a herd of taxis to follow ours. We chugged from She curb. Cries and whistles and toots echoed behind us. Then come the splinter of glass over our shoul- ders and an old shoe plopped into my lap. - Our driver got out. es “Who done that?” he wanted to aa his face purple. “‘ Who the hell done that?” The gang looked sheepish. “Say. listen,” threatened the guy, ee cious, “if the guilty party don’t own up pronto Ill be driving a funeral instead of — a wedding, - I’m a peaceful, well meaning man, I amy, but I don’t stand for the rough" stuff. Now, who done that?” Hartman sneered and slipped a bill into his clenched fist. “T ain’t no detective,’ ” he said, haughty, “but maybe a ten ‘Il salve your wounded feelings, my boy?” | Our. driver reémbarked, partly pacified,, and we resumed. __ “This is a nice way to start our married life,” complained Andy with a chuckle. I looked at him, rigid under his peiening arm. ~“ Married?” I booted. ~-get that way?” “‘ That’s what tered, desperate. ee How a5 you~ “Oh, Elsie!” Of a sudden he caved in and laid his face ~ on my shoulder. _ I leave it lay. “Tf we had got married this morning — like I wanted to—” I started out, huffy. ‘“T know,” he groaned. “I’m making a punk husband.” “You ain’t no husband at all,” I re- minded him, severe. ae Don’t be forsetting that.” = Why, ain’t we Sato married?” he inquired, astonished. I’d like to know,” he mut-_ Z Practically ain’t. absolutely,” T told him. “ Oh, Andy, what Il we do?” He thought a minute. “T think we can make the five forty-four yet,” he deduced. “ Andy Gibbons!” shricked I, “ T can’t go on no train with you.” = Why not?” “TY ain’t married.” blurted, sullen. S That was different,” I explained, frigid. “Tt was daytime then. 2 | “Great Heavens,” he erowled, “ what’ S the difference ae day and night? A - mere matter of the earth’s revolutions. Do _ you mean to sit there and tell me that be- cause this darn old terrestrial globe has turned over so that a planet called the sun — happens to be shedding its immediate rays on a place called China, Elsie Corbett can’t go to the Delaware ‘Water. Gap with An- drew Gibbons unless some gink by the name of Jones, Brown, Smith or Doe has first pulled a little hocus-pocus do-you-take stuff and signed said name of Jones, Brown, Smith or Doe on a plain, ordinary piece of paper? Say, what’s in a name anyhow, as Mr. Shake-a-weapon often says?” _ “ Andy,” I returned, sober, “it may be _ Jones, Brown, Smith or Doe, but it’s name that. changes mine to yours, and un- til it is changed I can’t go to no Del-Del- : aware W-Water Gap.” : “T know, honeys said Andy, all the wildness gone. u- I was talking crazy, that’s aL F orget ie What ho! We are arrived at the ferry.” — te L won’t set foot on it,” I declared. - ae Why?” he asked, sly. “Do -you want me to carry you?” “F can’t go,” I repeated. = “J just can’t go.” s Why ce We could let the crowd see us off, sneak - over, spend the evening and a little coin at the Palisades and hike back in time for a late supper. What say, huh?” he coaxed, becoming enthusiastic. : I gulped. “T know itd be nice,” I said low. laying” You vndy,”” 1 I explained, my eyes averted, = my hand on his, “ but I can’t do it. see, 511 _ “ Well, and you wasn’t married the day we took that trip to ASDULY, was your” he the “€O micboc Sj (eo)