Argosy All-Story Weekly, December 4, 1926 — page 116: what you’re looking at

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

426 devil! Young Mr. Cranning watched him enter the elevator, and then returned to his own private office, head shaking. Poor old Fred—a nut! Yep, just a plain nut! Or had something entered his life to drive him near to insanity—something in his business, maybe? It seemed unlikely. Even if his business collapsed entirely, much of Mr. Budlong’s comfortable fortune, as James chanced to know, had been left as a trust fund by his father. Then perhaps —well, there wasn’t much to be gained by speculating on the under- lying causes of Mr. Budlong’s trouble. James Cranning had troubles and problems of his own, and of these latter the most formidable was: just how to buy Mr. Bud- long another car before night! Ifs and ands, and buts had been elimi- nated from the matter now; the thing would have to be done! If only Mr. Budlong’s mental kink had entwined itself about his house, or his furniture, or the Sunnyvale railroad station, things would have been simpler. It had not. To the best of James’s divining, it was a purely automobile kink, hard fastened to that one car. Why, if he told the man the plain truth in his present state, he might easily wind up in a padded cell! Preposterous, maybe, but these things do happen. Well, then? How does one materialize a two-thousand-dollar automobile from the thin air in the course of a few hours? Young Mr. Cranning folded his arms, and thought, and thought. On the face of it, one doesn’t! One has to have the two thousand dollars first, and—James stared across his office for a moment, almost in terror, and then laughed mirthlessly. Of all the ironical notions so far, this one was— “Ves? Looking for Mr. Cranning?” that gentleman demanded as he left his chair, and hurried to the outer office. “ Why —Irma!”’ She was there and gazing directly at him—an Irma lovely as ever, and still wear- ing a new effect this early afternoon which quite baffled Mr. Cranning. She seemed alert from head to foot; her eyes were warm and glowing, and in them lay the baffling quality of the effect. They were not particularly angry, these ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. eyes, and they were not sentimental; in them, James sensed, a thousand inquiries were bobbing about on a sea of suppressed excitement. She had _ preceded him into the private office now, and was looking around quickly. “IT thought you had a stenographer?” ‘“ She’s out.” | ‘“ How long will she be out?” “Oh, another half hour, I suppose. Why?” Mrs. Fred Budlong smiled brilliantly at him, and found a chair. ‘If she comes in, find an errand for her, and send her out again,” she directed. ‘‘ You and I are overdue for a strictly private chat, Jimmy!” “Are we?” James muttered, as he re- turned to his own seat. Delight, for some reason, did not quite overcome him in this moment. If ever a lady personified the sort of Trouble one spells with a capital T, Irma Budlong did that very thing for James. In the nature of things, about five minutes hence, Dor- othy would come walking in, and— “Don’t look bored, Jimmy,” Irma said with a brief and flashing smile. ‘“ I’m go- ing to rouse your interest!” ‘* Er—yes?” “Jimmy,” Mrs. Budlong said tensely, ‘just what’s afoot? Do you know?” ‘““ Afoot—how?”’ ‘““ Well—” said the lady, and considered for a moment. “ What do you think is wrong with Fred, for one thing?” “Well, he’s in a bad way, poor old chap!” James said readily. “He was in here a few minutes ago, and he—he was sort of irrational, and—say, Irma, I don’t want to scare you, but you'll have to know pretty soon: I think Fred’s gone crazy!” Mrs. Budlong did not throw up her hands and scream at this dreadful news. Far from it, in fact! Mrs. Budlong merely showed her wonderful teeth in a new smile, which seemed to hold something of pity for James! “ He’s giving a wonderful imitation of a lunatic, at least,’’ she said. ; “Oh, I—I don’t think he’s faking it!” James protested. “You don’t?” CONnmcoOoOokxs (E@)