Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 108: what you’re looking at

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

248 so late,” Laura mused. “ Er—Harry, we'll have to have something to drink for my party.” “Eh? Coffee?” “ Well, some of them like something stronger than coffee,’ Laura laughed. “Oh, booze? Well, we’ve got that elderberry wine Clara made down cel- lar. There’s over a quart of that left.” “T’m afraid they may want some- thing even stronger than elderberry wine.” “Well, what are your friends in the habit of drinking? Sulfuric acid?” Henry asked tartly. “No. Scotch, most of them.” “TI wouldn’t know where to get it,” Henry said, with some mistaken final-. ity. “So. far as I know, I’ve never even seen a bootlegger.”’ “ Tasked Mrs. Harrison,” Laura ex- plained. ‘‘ There’s a cigar store just across from the station, on the other side of the tracks. Coffley’s—you know the place. You go in there and ask for Sam.” Mr. Morrow stared hard at his wife. “Say, are you suggesting, with things as they are, that I go and spend good money for fusel oil or wood alco- hol, or whatever it is?” “We'll simply have to have a little something of the kind.” » “T fail to see it!’ Henry said flatly. “We've run this house for twenty-five years on less than two quarts of booze, and most of that went for colds and so on. If your friends can’t sit down and enjoy a good cup of coffee, I'd let "em—” “Oh, it isn’t that you can’t under- stand! You won’t understand!” Laura flared out astonishingly! “ That’s nothing but a pose, Harry! Nobody could possibly be so stupid and old- fashioned as you’ve sought to appear lately. “ Perhaps you've tried not to change, but the rest of the world has changed, you know. I can’t ask these people to wear hoop skirts and play croquet, and I can’t offer them nothing but coffee. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Why, unless we have a drop or two of something in the house, I can’t have my party at all!” 100. Mean to Say,” blankly, “ you can’t?” “Not if I ever want to see those people here again, and I do!” She had drawn herself up, too; she was glaring defiance! “Well, Pl be—’” Henry began; and failed to complete the thought and rose with a savage jerk. “ All right, kid! You know best what you want. Shall I go down now and get your hooch?” “T wish you would, Hal.” Laura dimpled. “And don’t stop to burn any witches on the way. This isn’t really sinful.” “T wasn’t thinking of that,” said honest Henry. “I never drank, but (’'m no reformer. It makes no differ- ence to me if the other fellow wants to soak up a gallon a day—so long as it’s not you, Laura. What hurts me just now is having to buy it for him. Bill took the car, of course?” “ He—yes, Hal.” “Very well,” Mr. Morrow mutterea, and found his hat and light overcoat. “A bottle of—what? What ’ll I ask for?” “ Scotch—the best Scotch. just one bottle, Harry. at least!” “What for?” Henry gasped. “ Are you going to wash ’em in it?” “ Three, then,” Laura said. Mr. Morrow’s teeth clicked together grimly. He grunted as he left the house; he muttered quite luridly as he Henry said But not Pil want four passed down dusky March Avenue. Here, forsooth, was a nice errand for a respectable man! His ideas as to the procedure itself were hazy, but they were not nearly so hazy as to possible consequences. Every day the papers carried little stories with headlines like: “‘ Volstead Violator Fined Five Hundred Dollars,” or “Caught With Liquor, Gets Three Months in Jail.” | So now, when he had gone into Cof- ~€o DOOKS AAU (E@)