The Argosy, August 1914 — page 121: what you’re looking at

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

A SMILING NEMESIS. the other end of the table Mrs. Grel- thorpe, ashen pale, was saying flutter- ingly to Lord Lastermere: ‘Professor Copernicus always was so deliciously eccentric. David met him years ago and took the greatest fancy to him—so interesting! ”’ “ How’s that?” bellowed the ragged guest suddenly. “ David met me years ago? David took a fancy to me? Why, David never saw me in his life before to-night. Did you, Dave, old grampus? ”’ Grelthorpe smiled uncomfortably. “ Professor, you wilt have your lit- tle joke, I see,” he murmured. “ Will- iam, fill the professor’s glass.”’ “Right, William,’ said the pro- fessor. “ Fill it up to the brim with- out fear, you wooden-faced child of sin! ”’ _ Then, his roving eye catching that of the horrified Mrs. Furbush Challis, on the other side of the host, he grinned engagingly at her and abrupt- ly asked: “Who are you?” The lady addressed lowered her eyes without answering; her white cheek and quivering fingers testified to her perturbation and anger. Her husband glared across the table at the uncouth questioner. Mrs. Grelthorpe seemed on _ the verge of swooning; every one avoided every one else’s eye. Grelthorpe, his face hardened into resolute lines, erimly shouldered the burden he had brought upon himself. “That, professor, is my good friend, Mrs. Furbush Challis,” he explained. “ Regular swell?” “You bet!” Grelthorpe gave a hollow laugh. Nobody took it up. “Everybody here a member of the élite, eh?” Grelthorpe nodded. “O-ho!” The guest stood up, his napkin dangling absurdly below his hairy cheeks, and raised his glass in mock salutation. “Here's your health, élite!” he cried. ‘“ Here’s to you, créam de la 111 cream! Honored to know you. Wow, but you're a frozen bunch, though! Don’t you ever catch cold sitting round all day behind those sherbet faces? Can't you smile? Come on, oblige me with a smile. Or else let’s do a taran- tella.” He turned to Mrs. Challis. ‘“ Madam, may I have the honor of a whirl? ” “David Grelthorpe, reaching out a hand, pulled the professor into his seat. “Later perhaps we may dance,” he said evenly. ‘ Now I wish you would try some of this ice and a cup of coffee.” The strange being looked at him quizzically. “Embarrassed, eh?’ he inquired. “ Seeking to pass it all off with an air of nonchalance? Oh, well, I’ve a big piece of news for you, David. Lean toward me, smiling seraphically as I speak.” ‘“ Dave ’’—he put his lips close to his host’s ear—“if you will sign a paper certifying that I have been pres- ent at a really élite function, and if you will give me one hundred dollars cash, and — and — one of those pearl buttons in the front of your shirt, I will depart — vamose — exit. Is it a bargain?” In the midst of the deadly silence that ensued David Grelthorpe took out a note-book, tore from it a page, and scribbled a few words. He handed it to the man beside him. The latter read aloud: “This is to certify that Professor Copernicus was present at a really élite function in my house. “ Davip GRELTHORPE.” “Thanks, Dave,” he said. He pro- duced a very seedy card-case, put the piece of paper into it, and smiled pleasantly round the table. ‘Now the money, Dave.” Grelthorpe took from his card-case two fifty-dollar bills and handed them over. ‘They were transferred to the seedy card-case. “ Now the pearl button.” COMMICLOOOLK (C@