Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 10: what you’re looking at

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

150 «T to concentrate on the documents before him, and it was over an hour before he was ready for his morning’s dictation. At his ring, Marian Lord, the private secretary he had inherited from his father, came in, notebook in hand. Edison Ward’s pulse accelerated sharply, as it always did when he looked at Marian Lord. He had been secretly in love with Marian ever since she came to the corporation. Now he was nearer to betraying his feelings than at any time during those three years of stern repression. He sprang to his feet and held out his hand. “ Miss Lord,” he exclaimed, “ I con- fess I was a little irritated last night when the police called me up and told me you had intercepted a note from this madman and sent it to police head- quarters without informing me. But when the officer told me this morning that the man called in person last eve- ning when. there was no one around the office but myself and you, and that you sent him away, I felt differently, particularly in view of what happened later and the fact that [I and many others might have lost our lives if the police had not been on hand. I wouldn't have let that note go to the police if I had known. I probably owe my life to you, and I want to thank you.” His painful shyness always made Edison Ward gruff and awkward when he addressed Miss Lord. He was particularly so now. The girl blushed and drew her hand away rather hastily. “You've nothing to thank me for,” she assured him. “ You seem to have been quite able to save your own life. I can’t tell you how much I admire what you did this morning. Of course, I knew you wouldn’t let the police know, if I had consulted you last night. And it really took no courage to send him away. He seemed perfectly harm- less until after he had gone and I'd read his note. I just made him believe you weren't there.” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Edison Ward regarded the girl in silence. If he’d been a mere poor employee in the corporation he would long ago have asked Marian Lord to be his wife. But two things had prevented him: His worldly-wise father had always warned him against fortune hunting females and he was always haunted by the fear that if he asked the girl for her hand and she accepted, he would never be sure that she would take him for himself alone. But greater than that objection was the devil of pub- licity that haunted his days. He could not imagine asking a sen- sitive girl like Marian Lord to suffer it with him. Moreover, he had never seen any signs that she shared his feelings. “What would you advise me to do, Miss Lord?” he asked abruptly. She regarded him coolly for a moment. “Do?” she asked. ‘“ Why, do just what you’ve been doing. Stick right on the job, and show the world you're not afraid of anything.” “Good!” he exclaimed. “I’m glad to hear you say that. ‘Two other mem- bers of our staff have just advised me to go away and hide.” : “Mr. Coddington and Mr. More- house, I suppose.” “You’ve guessed it,” he laughed. “What do you think of those two?” “TI don’t think you should ask me that question, Mr. Ward,” the girl told himevenly. “ As long as I’m working here, I don’t care to act as a spy, if I may be permitted to say so.” “You're right, and I beg your par- don,” he told her, greatly embarrassed. “It’s my job to find out those things for myself, and I’m going to do it. Take some letters, please,” returning to a strictly businesslike manner. “A. G. Sax & Co., Industrial En- gineers, New York. Attention Mr. A. G. Sax,” he dictated among other letters. “My dear sir: Pursuant to our correspondence and recent personal interview, I have given your figures COPNIELOOOKS (C@)