The Argosy, Vol. 81, No. 4 — page 188: what you’re looking at

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

754 morning suit, English cut, together with et ceteras, and a little later the tailor’s glass reflected a well set-up, well be-tailored, be-spatted, top-hatted gentleman. Leaving his doffed clothing to be sent to his new ad- dress by the satisfied. tradesman, he there- upon wended his way to the Bank of Aus- ‘ tralasia in Martin Place, whence he emerged a few minutes later, beaming in a satisfied manner at the flower-seller as he purchased a sprig for his buttonhole. Then he pro- ceeded on his debonair way, with the ex- pression of countenance that proceeds from a conscience at perfect rest. A detour to Castlereagh Street enabled him to retrieve his bag at his former hotel, where he paid his bill and intimated his immediate intention to depart. His friend would remain, he informed the shabby cashier. A passing hansom caught his eye, and his brisk nod at the interrogating whip brought the imposing vehicle to the curb, so that it was in state that he alighted at the Hotel Australia, that hostelry catering for the aristocracy of the traveling Australian public. We pass over the uninteresting chronicle dealing with the sordid business details of engaging a room, and next encounter Mr. Cochrane at the hour of three in a gentle saunter up George Street—a leisurely, well- dressed man of fashion, idly surveying the passing throng, and seemingly without a care in the world. . A glance into the glittering windows of Sweet & Marlow’s great jewelry establish- ment chained Mr. Cochrane’s vagrant at- tention, and after an interested study of the treasures displayed for the world’s admira- tion, he strolled in, and with an elegant manner asked the obsequious salesman at one of the counters to show him some sleeve-links and shirt-studs. Galvanized into activity, the man behind the counter quickly had tray after tray displayed on the showcases. “These are rather decent looking. What do you ask for them?” Mr. Cochrane showed no trace of the somewhat slangy, careless American tone habitual to him. “Those, sir? Those are the finest opals, sir. The setting is very original. They come out at six guineas, Mr.—er—”’ “Six guineas! Really they are too cheap to be good, though they certainly look well. Wonderful strides this cheap jewelry has made in recent years.” THE ARGOSY. “Yessir,” the tradesman answered, quick to catch his cue. “Well, yessir. P’raps they’re ’ardly the thing for a gentleman who knows. P’raps these, sir—” reaching for more trays and doubling his attentions to so discerning a customer. ‘Ah, these are better, decidedly. How- much? Twenty-five pounds? Very rea- sonable, too, I should say. Thank you, I'll take these.” “Anything else, sir, to-day?” the man hastened to ask, inserting with quick, ex- perienced fingers into the little morocco case the recent purchase, and eying with satisfaction the cash that came from sov- ereign case and pocketbook to pay for the goods. Credit in Australia is so general that cash purchasers are rare and accordingly valued, not infrequently receiving a liberal dis- count, while checks for payment are freely taken even from strangers, if their appear- ance and general demeanor seem satisfac- tory. Nor is there much victimization in spite of this apparent carelessness. “Anything else I can show you while you're here, sir?” the gratified salesman re- peated. “Well, I did want a gold repeater, but I find I’ve hardly enough money left. An- other time will do,” and Cochrane started to turn away. . “Not at all, sir. .We will be happy to charge it to you, sir, if you will be good enough to give me your name and address. I’m sure a gentleman like you is good enough for credit here, sir,’’ and’ the little man’s voice held a tone of deprecation at the customer ever doubting it. “Well, let’s see some of your stuff. As well now as later. H’m—these are rather ordinary. I’m very particular about my things. Perhaps—” “IT can see you know what’s what, sir,” the now perspiring salesman remarked, smiling, “I see I can save time by showing you the best we have. Just come this way a bit, sir, and examine these.” Cochrane moved to the next show-case where some expensive timepieces were en- shrined and ultimately chose a fifty guinea gold repeater. “My name is James Cochrane. I am stay- ing at the Hotel Australia, but I will be leaving soon. You might phone them and ascertain that I am actually there. There’s no need for you to trust a stranger. In- deed, I prefer it,” as the deprecating hand Eomichbooks (E@)