Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

GOTHAM, THE the best he could conjure up on the spur of the moment. “Pardon me,” he began. ‘ About that job you asked for upstairs. Remember you saw me up there? Well, there is a job open for you after all. I tried to stop you before you got out, but somebody interrupted me for a moment and you got away. Afraid Td missed you. Great luck I found you again.”’ The girl was staring at him, first startled, then doubtful, but finally with a faint blush of hope. ‘““You mean there was a mistake? The job isn’t filled yet? They want me?” She choked a little and Ferris thought she Was going to cry. “Of course you’re wanted. Terrible stupidity letting you get away like this,” he hurried on sparring for time to collect other inspiration. “But you see—you see —it’s not exactly the job you applied for, something better that—that—I happen to have the decision on. Now—let me think —you see—’”’ He glared earnestly at his wrist watch. It told him nothing but the fact that it was twelve fifteen, which he might have gleaned from a glance at Trinity steeple. Indeed he took to studying that piece of architecture next as if it might yield a further sugges- tion, but it only reiterated the luncheon hour thought. That thought was clear enough. How to go on from there was the puzzle. — “You see—” he repeated inanely. She saw, all right. He stole a glance at her wondering eyes. He was afraid they were seeing altogether too much. Hope and excitement had given them a sparkle and painted a faint pink on the pale cheeks. ““ Gosh, she’s a little beauty!” he thought. And the thought didn’t allay his growing panic in the least. Hang it all! some food into this girl before she fainted on his hands. He didn’t care what she thought of him after that. Or did he? Well, anyhow, the end justified the means. Perhaps she’d be a good sport and see that, after she had a little food. “You see,” he insisted once more, then rushed on desperately. “ I’ve got a lot of He merely wanted to get GOAT-GETTER. appointments, busy as the mischief to-day, got to get a bite and run. Can’t go back to the office with you. Got to settle this job to-day, though. You have to eat before long anyhow. Would you mind talking business at luncheon? _ Right in here is a good place.” He gave her no chance to demur, though he saw her stiffen a little. A strong hand under her elbow propelled the slight little wraith through the door and to an im- mediate table. She was trying to say some- thing but Ferris drowned it in a flow of cheerful inanities. She dropped limply into a chair held by an alert waiter. Again she started to speak. “Pardon me,” Ferris interrupted. ‘““We’re in a hurry, waiter. Miss—eh— may I make a suggestion? I know the menu. Suppose we have chicken broth and some bluepoints, and we'll decide what else we'll have while he’s bringing them.” Ferris had read that a starving person must be fed cautiously at first. These viands ought to be harmless for starters. “‘ But really,” she said with a faint show of dignity, “I don’t know even who you are. I shouldn’t be lunching with you. I’m not in the habit—” “‘ Nonsense!” Ferris broke in heartily. “This is pure business. Just an accom- modation to me. You needn’t worry about my paying for your luncheon. It goes on my expense account. The company pays it. Regular thing taking prospective employees to lunch and talk it over. Of course you don’t know me. I don’t know you. That’s what we're here for. My name’s Ferris. You saw me up in the anteroom at Bos- well’s. Don’t worry. If we find we can do business I’ll give you plenty of references for myself. Listen, do—do I look like a masher—or something of that sort?” The girl studied his face for a full moment. She saw a pair of honest clear gray eyes with a hint of troubled embar- rassment back of their effort at calm assur- ance. They went well with the firm mouth and clear, healthy complexion. She seemed to like what she saw. “No you don’t,” she assured him with a 191 blush, and a frank humorous smile that only served to torture Ferris further. (EC) micbook