Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 4, 1926 — page 111: what you’re looking at

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

ROLL YOUR OWN. ec Yes.”’ “Oh, but—er—see here! Couldn’t—” ‘“ Seven hundred,” the other said with a finality that dropped upon James like a _—pitch-black pall. ‘“ Er—all right!” he sighed. 4 Name?” Again James started slightly. In mo- ments such as this, did one give one’s cor- rect name? Well, this one didn’t, anyway! Why, if it ever leaked out in certain busi- ness circles that the up-and-coming Mr. Cranning was going around pawning his wife’s jewels— “Jordan!” James “ Herbert P. Jordan!” The other scooped up Dorothy’s gems, and walked away. Now what? One waited, apparently. James drummed on the table and watched the door with catlike stare. If some one who knew him came walking in there! If some one happened—ah, the person was re- turning with three little tickets, and seven one hundred dollar bills in his hand. James tucked them into his inner vest pocket, and fled. Next, the bank! Five hundred dollars to come out of his poor little account in one lump, which, when his hundred-dollar deposit check had been paid, would leave a balance of just sixty- two dollars! Young Mr. Cranning braced himself as he entered; this was a big institution, and once in awhile it had the nastiest way of telling people that their business was too small to bother with. Young Mr. Cran- ning, presently, tottered out with five hun- dred dollars more in his inner pocket. Nothing had happened. To be sure, he still lacked six or seven hundred dollars of the car’s purchase price. That would have to be arranged, in .one way or another. He’d have to give the motor people a note for the balance, and have some responsible person indorse the note. Back in his office again, James grew rather limp with relief, for the main object had been attained; he had exhausted the whole visible supply of money in his per- sonal world, to be sure, but he had enough to get actual possession of the accursed car! exclaimed loudly. 421 lf ever James He- sat And he was thankful for that. a man was thankful for anything, Cranning was thankful for that! back, smiling quite naturally indeed, and pondered hard upon just which business friend might most safely be asked to write his name across the back of an insignificant note for eight hundred dollars, and— ‘““Hel—lo!” said a gentle voice behind him. Young Mr. Cranning started and turned. It was only Rockford, Sunnyvale’s new real estate agent—although what was he doing here? James had not exchanged two dozen words with the man since their first meet- Ing; indeed, he detested the mean-eyed, oily creature, just now glancing about, and laying aside his hat and stick and, without invitation, selecting a chair! ‘“ Met your young lady out there; on her way to lunch, I suppose,” he said. ‘“ She said you were in.” ‘ She’s a truthful girl,” said James. el “Nice place you’ve got here.” = Doing pretty well, Cranning?” ‘Sure am!” James said enthusiastically, for this attitude was a matter of fixed pol- icy with him during business hours. “Hands full of profitable business, eh?” ‘“T’ll tell the whole, wide world!” said James. Twice Mr. Rockford nodded meditative- ly. Then he stretched his legs. ‘Well, ’'m glad you’re doing so well!” he said heartily. “Why are your” “Because you're probably wondering how to invest your surplus funds, Cran- ning—and I have the very best proposition you ever examined!” “Oh!” sighed James. ‘““A new company, doing a—er—a gen- eral business, as one might say.” at sounds vague.” “Tt isn’t, though!” Mr. Rockford as- sured him. “TI call it ‘ Rockford.’ ” Sing,?” : “No, just plain Rockford.” He paused. James smiled, and nodded in the most perfunctory way. During the average week he disposed of about one oe: com Ghoo Ss . ee NAT Satan NA y f . PON Sa Wachee Nant st —