Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 5, 1928 — page 33: what you’re looking at

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

THE TRAIN “T couldn’t get rid of him any other way, replied the stranger. “I hate those birds. They’re always trying to send a fellow off to a hospital, I—TI guess I let myself in for more than I figured on when [ started up here.”’ * Well, what did you think you were letting yourself in for?” Johnny in- quired. “ What’s your idea in being here at all? I can’t figure it out.” “It must seem strange,” said the man. “I hardly know myself why I ever came to stich a dump as this. I must be more or less crazy, I guess. Everybody else thinks so and maybe Iam. But, you know, I don’t mind it so much as I did this morning. You’ve been so darned white that I feel I’ve got one friend anyway. Id like to know your name. Mine’s Allister, Gordon Allister.” “ Most folks call me Johnny,” said the station agent. “ My last name’s Webster.” “ Well, listen,” said Allister, “ don’t let that old saw-bones take me to any hospital, will you? He can’t do any- thing for me and neither can a hospi- tal. There’s nothing the matter with me except that I’ve nothing to live for.” “Oh, snap out of it,” exclaimed Johnny impatiently. “‘ Whoever heard of not having anything to live for? That’s the bunk,” he added bluntly. “Tt is not,” Allister denied. “ You don’t know anything about it or you wouldn’t say that.” “No, but I’d like to,” Johnny sug- gested quickly. Allister scrutinized him for a mo- ment in silence. “T’m water-tight,” Johnny assured him, “ if that’s what you’re afraid of.” Allister shrugged his shoulders. “ What's the difference?” he decid- ed. “ Might’s well spill it if you care to listen. In the first place, I was born poor and I didn’t like it, Then I mar- ried what turned out to be a gold dig- ger. Kept me to the wall all the time. “Finally I invented something and EXPECTER. 599 made a pile. It went to Jane’s head. After I’d developed the business, she insisted that I sell out and go globe trotting. She liked that all right, but she got tired of me. She got a divorce and stuck me for fifteen thousand a year alimony. “Oh, I’ve got plenty of money,” he went on, answering the question in Johnny’s eyes. “‘ My income is suffi- cient to keep a harem if I wanted to. But that’s all I have got—no home, no- body to care whether I come or go, no business, nothing.” “ But all this doesn’t account for your illness. And you are ill, aren’t your” “T should say all that was enough to make anybody ill,” Allister an- swered. “I’ve been to doctors all over the world, but none of them has been able to give it a name. My stomach’s all shot and I can’t even eat anything. The saw-bones say they can’t do any- thing for that until I get over the dumps. : ‘I came up to this neck of the woods to try to forget. I had no particular reason in choosing this place. It looked remote enough on the map, so I decided on it and bought a ticket. It pretty nearly floored me this morning, but I guess maybe I can stand it until I cash in.” “You are in bad shape,” Johnny de- cided. “ Gosh, it’s a shame for a man as young as you are to be in this con- dition. Snap out of it. You'll find this is a pretty decent sort of burg when you get acquainted.” He thought for a moment, then ven- tured a suggestion, “ I'll tell you what: They’ve got a big front room here with two beds init. We can bunk together if you want to. It *H be a little cheap- er for me and you'll have some com- rN ages Se “Suits me,” said Allister. “ Good!’ cried Johnny. “I’ve got to beat it now and snatch some lunch be- fore I go back to work—I mean back to the office. There isn’t much work EOPMIC OO KS (E@)