Argosy and Railroad Man's Magazine, Vol. 107 No. 3 — page 175: what you’re looking at

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

SHE WAS TIRED OF BEING CREMATED. His delight, therefore, was keen when he discovered that Miss Humphrey possessed both looks and a trim, slim figure. She, having sought employment for weeks fol- lowing the dissolution of the ties binding her to Oscar “‘ Bughouse ”’ Brady, was only too eager to accept Hig’s offer. Caroline had confided a good deal of her past to the genial wizard with the heavy eyebrows, the mobile countenance, and the abnormally long thumb. She seemed fitted for the part of Helia in “‘ Burned Alive,” and gave Higgins full value. One thing he did not know, though, nor did he even sus- pect it. Miss Humphrey, no longer cavorting through her small-time dancing-specialty, and always an omnivorous devourer of chocolate-creams, had become cognizant of the subtle difference in her figure that this was making. Their watery arrival in Oak- land that morning had rubbed Caroline the wrong way, and, when Hig was about to leave her to her own devices in the com- fortable room he had engaged for her at the Asterpole, she brought him to a stand- still with a curt beckoning that could not be misunderstood. ‘‘ Don’t be in such a hurry, Mr. Higgins. Sit down a minute. I want to tell you a few things—a few important things.” ‘““T may have been a little brusk on the car, Car’line,” Balboa apologized: “ But don’t let that get to you. I was damp and out of sorts. I didn’t expect to upset you so.” She had taken off her hat, and her au- burn hair struck Hig as being primely dressed. Her forehead, too, again had taken on its enameled look. ‘‘ Oh, that’s all right,” she said. ‘‘ No doubt we both were a little on edge. What I’ve got to say is of more importance. It concerns our act.” “The act? What about it, Car’line?” He overlooked the “‘ our.” “The cremation stunt. It’s getting im- possible! We'll have to substitute some- thing for it.” Balboa Higgins’s eyes widened. line, have you gone mad?” ‘Hardly! It’s a wonder, though. Hig, I've grown—that is, the trap-door is get- i Car- 517 ™~ ting too small for me to hold up my end of the illusion with propriety and comfort.” She was embarrassed and her eyes sought the carpeted floor. A hollow noise sounded in Higgins’s throat; a snort or a chuckle—you couldn’t tell which. dered. ‘‘ Now turn around very slowly. That will do.” . She shot him a shy glance as she dropped to her chair. ‘“ Believe me now?” she asked. “IT believe it’s your imagination,” he rumbled. ‘The idea! Why, you only weighed a hundred and ten a little while ago.” “That may be,” she acknowledged. “ But I’ve been on the scales since and— oh, I can’t tell you, Hig! The figures would frighten you.” Another snort. “I insist upon knowing Ahem.” ~“ Well, a hundred and thirty-three, then, if you must know.”’ Hig enjoyed watching the red mount in her cheeks. “ That bad? ‘You don’t look it, Car’line. But I know what’s wrong. You're stuffing too much. Eat less confec- tionery and butter fat—stop feeding your- self for slaughter.” “ Hig!” She said it reproachfully. “There, there, Car’line. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. If you,don’t want to diet I'll have a mechanic enlarge the trap- door.” “You'll do nothing of the sort,” Bal- boa!” She sat erect, her brown eyes drier than he had suspected. “I said we’d have to eliminate the cremation stunt, and sub- stitute another. I’ve never liked it! I’ve put up with it, hoping every day you’d make a change yourself. How would you like to have to crawl through a miserable sixteen-inch-square hole in the top of a ta- ble twice a day for weeks on end—at thirty a week? It’s difficult, and too—too ) undig- nified!”” ‘Tf that’s all that’s bothering you, Car- line—the thirty per—why, I suppose we could make it thirty-five in a pinch.” “The thirty-five goes!” she speedily ac- quiesced. ‘“ But the pinch does not! It’s the pinch I’m sick of. If you don’t—” “ Car’line, stand up,” he or- ELOOO = O) (C(O) S (CO) mM