Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 12, 1927 — page 39: what you’re looking at

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

Ne re Ee ee a ee EN A OF x eT a —- Sa Oe = > : ; - THE MEANEST MAN. 33 and alluring hotels, steamship lines, out- landish places. There was even one which was printed in Chinese ideographs; another, equally un- decipherable to those still, beady eyes on the platform, was in Hungarian. The bearer paused halfway to the depot door, looked quizzically about him and addressed the loiterers impersonally. “Yo, ho! My hearties. Anybody here happen to know Miss Miller? Ellen Miller? And whether she’s still tied up at the old anchorage?” A tall, lanky man nominated himself spokesman. He spat a rich mouthful of tobacco juice onto the right of way before answering: * Ellen don’t ye?” George Bangs set ‘dean his bag, removed his cap and wiped his brow with a soiled bandanna. ‘‘ Why, mebbe so. She might of married, of course. Ellen Miller, only darter of old Peter, liv- ing up the turnpike in the old Miller home- stead.” The lanky one nodded. “ That’s her. She’s been married a matter of five year or so. Feller name of Ernest Sproul; used to run the hardware store here.” The stocky man in blue serge seemed surprised. His little eyes blinked in their folds of white fat, his flabby mouth pursed. “Well, blast my timbers! So Ellen’s spliced? Now, who’d of thought that. Nev- er was no hand at all for the boys, Ellen wan't.” To this comment there was no reply. The men of Miller’s Creek, inquisitive to a de- gree, were a silent breed in the presence of a stranger. Not one there but yearned to fire a vol- ley of questions at*him. Who was he? Where did he come from, and why? What business had he with their townswoman, Mrs. Sproul? But they bottled up their curiosity, and continued to stare unwinkingly at George, their jaws moving, the older men chewing tobacco, the youths masticating gum, one or two smoking cigarettes. The new arrival drew from his pocket a very a pine. of Dae, blew 2 Miller? Mean Mrs. Sproul, === ams = ~- - aS Fn a Se = eae Ses = SS a ee a ae a SS Ss y= —— see a <a rs te io ——— = = But I knew her as through it as through a boson’s whistle, filled it from a cloth bag, struck a match » with his thumbnail and lighted up. When his pipe was drawing well, he looked over the ring of loungers. “Any likely lad here want to tote my dunnage far’s Ellen’s—as Mrs. Sproul’s? There’s a shillin’ in it for the one speaks first!” : There was no mad rush to secure the bag, although nearly every man and boy present would gladly have carried it twice the distance required, for a thin dime. After a moment, a gangly youth of perhaps four- | teen stepped forward. He walked sneakingly, on the balls of his feet, and his freckled face crimsoned as he thus thrust himself into the limelight. He leaned over and the fingers of one hand fastened like talons on the handle of the worn grip. Then, without a word, he turned and made off toward the end of the plat- form. George Bangs followed him, waving a genial hand at the staring group behind him. “See ye later, when I git my bear- in’s,” he called. He was conscious that as soon as he was out of earshot, a gabble of talk started on the depot platform. Released from his presence, these old neighbors burst into a frenzy of speculation. But he could not make out any phrases, or even words, as he lounged after the youth who had volunteered to carry his bag. So he began to converse with him. ‘What might your name be, sonny?” “* Potter. Lem Potter.” — George seemed surprised. ‘“ Well, well! Don’t tell me you’re the son of old man Potter, of this town?” Lem blushingly confessed that it was even so. ‘“How’d you come to know my old man?” he asked. “ How old is he?” George countered. “ Goin’ on forty-five.” ‘An’ how long’s he lived round these parts?” ‘Why, all-his life, 0’ course! born right here. So was ma. Dunning.” George nodded. He was She was a “Thought so! Well, when you u Bet home, you ask yout afd cs ugly oP Al if Boba a) \\) ae oS ee ’ it h At i A “4 Dh J Se || ayy eT GmICbooKe: com