Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 12, 1927 — page 114: what you’re looking at

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

brightly about her; and turn two perfect cartwheels. The cameramen yelled and cranked. Aunt Sally laughed. Larry, retaining an image of flying beautiful legs, of fluttering pink silk, quickly glanced at George Wash- ington’s profile. He did not in the least approve of the look he saw on the young man’s face. Another cheer went up. The crowd be- low had seen Washington at the window. He waved to them, but did not smile. When the cheering stopped, Aunt Sally called up: “Come on down, George! The movie man is here with the films he made of us last night. He’s going to run them in the library.” George Washington hastened to the door. With hand on knob, he bowed hastily to Larry. . “Tt is a great relief to know that you are to be my adviser,” he got out in one breath. “ Until later, Mr. Galloway.” CHAPTER XXVII. WHEN WOMEN FIGURE IN. HE crusader sadly contemplated the closed door. Somehow, he had reached the conclusion that George Washington was not the serious young man history portrayed him to be. Reviewing that conversation, it struck Larry that Colonel Washington had, at every step, taken pains to avoid responsibil- ity. Had refused to take his mission seri- ously. Had, without actually saying so, refused to accept any obligation to the nation he had founded. Larry found himself regretting that George Washington had not returned to life at the age, say, of forty-five; “at the age when he had put frivolity behind him, had settled down to the serious business of or- ganizing and directing a nation. “What more,” he ruefully asked himself, “can I expect of twenty-three?” He sighed. He himself hadn’t been frivolous at twenty-three; hadn’t, in fact, been frivolous at any age. Washington was behaving as any normal man of twenty- ¢ ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, three would behave. Considering his youth, he had conducted himself, so far, amazingly. Larry growled: “ It’s that damned wom- an!” And he thought: “She will ruin him, if she gets the chance, just as she’s ruining Polly!” He consulted a notebook in which, in the course of his research reading, he had jotted down many notes. And read: ‘Super horseman. Jefferson said he was best of his age—magnificent on horseback. Manner always grave. Fastidiously clean. Big barber and laundry bills. At dinner always drank a pint of Madeira besides rum punch and beer. Very fond of fish, Fish and honey favorite dishes. Went to theater often and to the circus. Rode to hounds. Fond of duck shooting and horse racing. Played cards almost daily. Read only books on agriculture in early manhood. Later, po- litical science, history, and statesmanship. Loved dancing. Once danced for three hours without stopping. Danced High Betty Martin and Leather the Strap. Some- thing of a dandy. Liked fine clothes. Not amusing, but liked amusement.” Larry tossed the notebook aside and entered a tub of cold Water. There, his grouch was dissipated. It occurred to him forcibly that Washington, if he remained pliable, would be merely an instrument upon which he would play; a mouthpiece. Through this light-minded young man, he would awaken America! He thought, rhapsodically: “ I will be to modern America what Washington was to young America!”’ His ego complained: “ But you will re- ceive none of the credit.” His honesty answered: “‘ But you will be freeing America from corruption, lawless- ness, and ignorance!”’ In a glowing mood, Larry went down- stairs. With shades drawn, the library was in darkness, except for a flickering on a sheet that had been pinned up across the shelves at one end. A motion picture projector was whirring at the far end. The room was crowded and noisy. Larry paused in the doorway behind the projector. He saw himself, alone on the veranda, his hair disheveled, his expression iGo IOOKS AAI (E(o)