Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 5, 1928 — page 103: what you’re looking at

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

BUM PRO TEM. “ And now what?” he asked himself. He tried to locate Joe, but failed, and then slowly followed the crowd to the door. He was hungry again—and he’d have to find some place to sleep that night. “Hey, bud!’ said a-voice at his elbow, and turning he saw his guest of the restaurant. “| wondered where you were,” said Walt. “JT went out awhile back,” Joe ex- plained. “ Worked Jackson Boulevard for awhile till I saw a cop eyin’ me. Collected forty cents, bud! That’ll get us a cup of Java and a couple of sinkers apiece, and a bed later on. Let’s rex) cS Walt grinned. “Right! Let’s go!” They had their frugal meal, and from then on until ten o'clock that night they tramped around in the cold darkness. At ten Joe led the way to a flophouse, where they paid twenty cents and were entitled to use two of the “‘ beds ” therein. Walt slept little that night. He was afraid of falling off the hard, narrow boards upon which he was stretched ; he was disturbed by the various odors that filled the air, and he could not keep from his ears the variety of snores that came from his hundred neighbors. When he did lapse temporarily into slumber it was to dream of a young lady with eyes of deep, deep brown and twin dimples and a bewitching smile. At six o’clock Joe and he went out to the street again. At eight o’clock Joe left him, saying he’d probably see him at the auction later on, and at nine thirty Walt was at the old warehouse. The girl was not there, nor had she put in an appearance when the morning session ended. Walt called himself a fool for expecting her to come, and continued to watch the door hopefully. She arrived when the afternoon was half over. Walt had relaxed his vigi- lance to listen to some particularly spirited bidding, and when he faced about again he saw her. 669 She stood near the door, and seemed to be seéking some one with her eyes. As he started forward she sighted him, nodded slightly, smiled, and looked away. Walt refused to be stopped in that fashion. “How do you do, Miss Bradford?” he said, on coming up. She returned the greeting. Then, hesitantly: “Do you know whom I shall have to see about the stockings I purchased yesterday. J—’”’ “But you won't be able to get them until to-morrow. The auction ends to-day.” “T do not want to get them,” she told him, and a warm flush crept over her cheeks. ‘“f Mr. Wilkinson, I’m in trouble similar to your own. I have no money, and I would like to get back those three dollars if possible.” Walt started in astonishment. And whistled softly. “ Gee,” he said, “ we’re getting some tough breaks, aren’t we? Won’t you tell me about it?” She did, when they had retreated to an isolated corner where there would be no interruption. The story was simple and short. Her home was in Michigan, and, much against the wishes of her parents, she had gone to Chicago to seek work on a newspaper. Young and inexperienced, she had been unable to get a position. During the month she had been in the city the only money she had re- ceived had been for space work—short sketches of various kinds. The money wasn't enough—and the savings she had brought with her had disappeared. The day before she had heard of the auction, and thought she might make a human interest story out of it. In fact, she had been so certain that the article would be taken that she had thrown caution to the winds and spent her last three dollars for the stockings. After leaving she had written her story and taken it to the editor of the paper that had printed the majority of her sketches. CONMIG OOO)<S (E@)