Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 107: what you’re looking at

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

NOW WE'RE RICH. gested. “ Just give me a date—a tenta- tive date, you know—when we can ex- pect your check?” “Put down any date you like,” Henry grunted, and turned to his desk. “You'll get your check within sixty days, just as I agreed in the first place.” But his righteous rage departed be- fore the door had clicked after Jones. He gripped the arms of his chair and scowled at the shining expanse of ma- hogany before him. This was getting to be too much of a good thing, you know! What did it mean, anyway? Had some one been telling the fool furniture firm what a very small busi- ness man Henry Morrow really was? They'd have done well to add that, up to date, nobody had as yet lost a dol- lar through the same Henry. Although for a concern of just this caliber, fourteen hundred _ dollars’ worth of office fittings certainly was a lot to be taking on all at once; he ad- mitted that. The spell of Manikoma Oil had been upon him that day; per- haps he had turned slightly insane when wandering over the sample floor among all those fancy contraptions? Henry’s scowl grew blacker. If Manikoma Oil had got him into this, Manikoma Oil might get him out of it. He’d be hanged if he’d have that fel- low running in and dunning him every few minutes! He’d take one chance, which is not much in a whole lifetime, and sell a few shares of Manikoma to- ‘day and clean up the bill and—well, devil take the hindmost! He rose with determination. He sat down again, for Charlie Eas- ton was entering with a ledger, some papers and a puzzled expression. Henry was much cooler when a number of details had been painstakingly ex- plained to Charlie Easton; but the worry of the thing remained with him. Yes, sir, try as he would to push that infernal bill out of his mind, it came back every time and nagged him like a toothache! They had news for him at home that 247 night. Brantree broke his just after Henry returned home. “Peter Salton called up!” he whis- pered shakily. sé Eh bd “Just now. I just hung up.” “What ’d he have to say?’ Henry inquired. “ He can’t stall his brother any long- er, Hank,” Brantree said with a quick, terrified little smile. ‘“‘ He says the old man cut loose to-day and swore he’d have me pinched to-morrow! He told me to beat it now, while TI still hada chance. What do you think?” * How much money have you?” * Not ten dollars.” “Don’t beat it, Jim,” Henry said grimly. “‘ You can’t go far on that, and I can’t lend you enough to get you much farther. Wherever you landed, you'd have to hunt a job, and if you hadn’t starved to death by the time you found it, they'd have caught up with you. Stay where you are.” “Yes, but if—if—well, Laura, with this party coming to-morrow—I don’t know!” the unfortunate person mut- tered, and laughed his hollow laugh. “Lord! I think I’ve lost my nerve at last, Henry! I haven’t been able to eat much for a week and I haven’t slept a wink in three nights. I’m shot to pieces. I don’t know what to do!” “Tsn’t your friend Gallivan getting any results?” ; “Apparently not, Hank. I called up this afternoon.” “Then maybe—psst!” said Henry. “ Here comes Laura.” Laura drew her husband aside after a dinner which had lacked the light of William’s smile. William, so his friend Pete Henderson had phoned, was din- ing at the Henderson home this eve- ning, with Joy and several more rare young spirits. “Harry, this is Wednesday, isn’t it?” “Unless they have the date line wrong on the papers,” Henry grinned. “Yes, I shouldn’t have left it until CONMIC OOO (C@)