Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 189, No. 4 — page 35: what you’re looking at

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THE BULLY OF calf eyes. Otherwise, she was an admirable girl. She had intellect and her judgment was always sound. But to-night her judg- ment was terrible. “What you need,” said Sylvia with wife- like solicitude, “is a rest. It happens that dad’s yacht has just come out of dry dock. Let’s get a congenial little crowd together and cruise down to Bermuda or Nassau. We'll have loads of time to think and talk things over thoroughly. We mustn’t rush into this. We must go about it with lots of deliberation. Give me a ring about to- morrow noon. It’ll only take a few hours to have the yacht fueled and provisioned and we can round up the gang on a mo- ment’s notice.” “ Tf I’m in town,” Teddy promised. “ Where might you go?” she wailed. “J don’t know,” was-the young man’s honest answer. “I feel the need of get- ting off some place by myself and thinking things out.” Sylvia was nervously toying with the dia- mond-and-platinum pendant on her pearl necklace. “Teddy,” she said, severely, “ you need some one to look after you. If there is any man in the world who ought to be mar- ried, it’s you. Honestly, Teddy, you ought to marry.” “TI suppose so,” Teddy sighed. She leaned impulsively toward him and her ordinarily high color had faded to a nervous pallor. “Teddy, why not let’s be honest with each other? After all, we’re old enough and modern enough to call a spade a spade. We’re tremendously fond of each other. And there’s so much I could do for you. Honestly, I’m just itching to get my hands on you. You’ve got more possibilities than any man I’ve ever known. You think it over. I really mean it. You—you can give me your answer when you call to- morrow noon.” “Tf I’m in town,” said Teddy. dance.” It was the only way he knew of effective- ly bottling up Sylvia. She loved to dance and, in her own words, dancing was a lan- guage in itself. She detested men who in- sisted on talking to her while dancing. “ Let’s BISCAYNE BAY. 505 Teddy employed that safe medium of communication the rest of the evening and Sylvia became dreamy and detached and inarticulate, a state into which dancing with any man who handled himself as well as Teddy always plunged her. Shortly before midnight he deposited Sylvia on her doorstep, and decided to walk home. It was a fine, brisk night and an air of adventure was abroad. There were a great many things Teddy wanted to think out; the events of the day had given him quantities of food for thought. To begin with, he had been working for Mr. Juveen for five years, and where had it got him? He could, to be sure, find him- self another job just as good or better than the one he had left, but did he really want another job? As far as he could see, the way he was living was getting him nowhere but further and further into debt. On a salary of twelve hundred a year, he had spent fifteen hun- dred. On a salary of five thousand, he had spent six. And on a salary of ten, he had spent more than twelve. Ever since leaving college he had been, not one lope ahead of the wolf, but several lopes be- hind! “The trouble with me,” Teddy mused, “and the trouble with most of the fellows IT know, is that we’ve developed a set of bad economic habits. We're spending our salary checks a month or two before we get them. We’re nothing but a lot of squir- rels running as fast as we can in those re- volving cages. Some of us have shabby old cages, and some of us do our running in platinum cages with diamond trimmings, but it’s the same old principle at work. It’s all wrong.” He recalled that a wise old boy had once said that it is far easier to establish a new set of habits in a new environment than in an old one. Teddy’s solemn ponderings were inter- rupted by a brightly lighted billboard which he suddenly found confronting him. So perfectly did the first sentence he read key in with his thoughts that he started. Are You Tired of the Life You Are Leading? “Dll say I am!” was Teddy’s response. Gomichbooks (E@)