The Argosy, Vol. 81, No. 4 — page 37: what you’re looking at

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

FOUR SPEEDS FOR FOREST HILL. him fill up the gasoline tank and the No. 1 and No. 5 oil tanks. “The check for your wages and the men’s I'll date to-morrow. You can go down to the bank in the morning and get the cash. _ Figure up the time, and pay everybody. If there’s any left, put it in the safe. “Tell inquirers I'll be back Tuesday morning. If any one should want to order, you know how to take his deposit and where he’s to sign his name. “T’m going down to Atlantic City. Don’t know where I’ll be able to get a room, so I’ll call you up in the morning and find out if anything’s happened meanwhile.” Orton got aboard the big “junk-car,”’ re- stored once more to its usual lustrous mag- nificence. He stopped long enough to pack a couple of grips at his boarding-house and to cash a check for seventy-five dollars at the bank. Then the powerful runabout bore him swiftly down Broad Street and out Clinton Avenue to Elizabeth Avenue— the Lincoln Highway. Yes, everything would be all right, he told himself, wondering why he had to an- swer a doubt about it. He had done his best to attend to everything. Of course his business was not organized yet on a basis where it would go of itself while its head made a trip to Europe. Of course a lot of things might happen, and he would suffer the feeling that he might have prevented their happening. But nothing would happen. It was be- cause he was so utterly tired, so greatly in need of a little rest and recreation, that he felt these misgivings. It showed how great was the need. And there was Mr. Van Platt, and there was Arlene. A sudden smile softened the lines around his drawn lips. If Mr. Van Platt were really a dangerous rival, Arlene would not have said so much about him. Arlene wanted to see him, and was trying to arouse his jealousy, so that he would come. Well, she didn’t want to see him any worse than he wanted to see her. And he would see her. To-night, possibly, he would be able to make an evening call. To- morrow, surely, he would be riding by her side, jumping big waves with her, teaching her new swimming strokes, or— Something worth while, something a lot better than standing around and swearing at his help. He shoved his spark up an- other notch. 603 Had he forgotten something? It seemed to him as if he had intended to arrange something and had not done it. “Rats!” he grunted inelegantly. ‘It’s just another indication of the nervous con- dition I’m getting into. A man never goes anywhere anyhow without thinking he’s forgotten something.” And he sparked up another notch. But one of the showers which happened so frequently last summer spoiled the road for him from midway ‘between Englishtown and Freehold all the way to Tom’s River. It was midnight when he reached the shore city. It was nearly two before he could find any quarters and get his car put up at a garage for the night. “Darn you,’ he grunted to himself sleepily as he dropped into his bed; ‘‘of course you didn’t forget anything.” He awoke a little after nine from the soundest sleep he had enjoyed in nearly two weeks, ample proof of the benefits of the salt air. It was almost ten when he tele- phoned to Newark, and caught Miss Stearn just as she was setting forth for the bank and the money. She and Herman gave him cause for feeling secure that his mis- givings had been quite useless. A man who had already had a demon- stration had given an order; the chasses were getting their last touches of aluminum paint; all the engines were running “‘fine’’; the oil man had been attended to. Three of the anxious buyers had come in to know if there was any chance at all of getting their cars by to-morrow morning; but— wJ’m just as well pleased not to have seen them,” Orton answered with a laugh. “It seems to me things go better when I’m not around. I'll call up again around noon. If anything serious happens, telegraph me at the Hotel DeBarnegat. I might not be in if you telephone.” Ten minutes later, having assured him- self before a glass that his last year’s Pan- ama cloth suit really looked just like a new one, and having got his fresh-washed and newly supplied big runabout from the garage, he was swinging his arm to signal vehicles behind of his intention to turn into the pretentious entrance of the Hotel Ritz- Boulevard, when he suddenly changed the gesture with palm reversed as he shoved the brake down hard to prevent collision with a small car just coming out of the gate. Then he stared at the car. It was a Rollerton Six. In it four girls ECOMMICLOOOKS (E@)