The Argosy, September 1915 — page 212: what you’re looking at

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

426 THE her latch-key that Ed might not see the happy unshed tears which filled her eyes. ‘“Tve been thinkin’ for a good many years that I'd like to go up to the park and see the monkeys, Ed.” “We'll go Sunday afternoon as soon as | get the fires banked,” re- turned Ed. “Good night, Miss O’Flannaghan.”’ ARGOSY. Miss O’Flannaghan raised her head with a sweet, new dignity. ‘““Mary Anne, Ed,” she said as she opened the door and stumbled up the dark stairway to her hall-bedroom. Then the rain suddenly ceased, and a star flickered and shone bravely out in the dull sky, a challenge to the lan- tern of the factory watchman and the great arc light of the saloon. Will“H’ Greenfield HEN Kemble Skirm returned from his first spring training- trip with the Guerrillas, Man- ager Tommy McNabb, who was a being without soul, told him to get a job in a hotel because he was indu- bitably the best waiter> in captivity, having struck out on called strikes in every game in which he was permitted to participate. And according to Pete Strecker, the Guerrilla scout, Skirm had taken the manager’s advice, and was “ carrying everything before him ” in an obscure Western hotel, when he came under Pete’s appraisive eye for the’ second time, just two years later. It seems that Pete was served by Skirm. In a very brief while the lat- ter proved that as a waiter he was a most triumphant failure. Thus Pete: “You don’t seem to be a howling success as a grub-slinger, Kemble.” “I get only ten dollars a week for this,’ grumbled Kemble Skirm. ‘ There’s fellows can’t pitch ball any better than you who are pulling down thirteen hundred a season,” said Pete. “ But McNabb said [I didn’t know anything about pitching baseball,” sighed Skirm. “Well, you don’t know anything about waiting, either,” said Pete, “ and you might as well grab that extra money that goes with the twirler’s job.” And so Kemble Skirm came back to the Guerrillas, to his own unmeasured delight and to the mild astonishment of Tommy McNabb. Not a man on the team would admit that Kem was COPMICLOOOKS (C@)