The Argosy, Vol. 81, No. 4 — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

604 were laughing merrily over something one had said. One of them stopped laughing; then managed to stop the car before it smashed Hardy Orton’s fender. And while she did this she uttered a little cry of surprised delight: “Hardy! Why—Hardy!”’ He was out of his car and beside hers in an instant. For another instant the two looked from each other to the girls and other surroundings that prevented a better greeting than the mere clasp of hands. Ar- lene then spoke: “Tt’s all off, girls. If any of you wants to drive the car, go ahead. I haven’t seen Hardy in almost a month. Oh—pardon me. Mr. Orton, this is Miss Van Platt, and Miss Ethel Van Platt, and Miss Katherine Van Platt.” She laughed mischievously. ‘They are the daughters of the Mr. Van Platt I wrote you about in one of my letters, Hardy. And now you.girls can run right along. I’ll share my last car-seat with you,. but not—” And she looked at Hardy. “Come on inside for a moment and let’s decide what we’ll do,” she now invited him, | while he tried to adjust himself for further shocks, and recalled that several things were still unexplained. “You said your car was broken down,” he told her accusingly. “Well, it. was,” she instantly defended herself, though there was a demureness in her face which rather boasted of the trick than apologized for it. “I broke a steering- knuckle dodging a motor-truck last Tues- day. And Mr. Van Platt got a man to try to weld it together again; but it snapped off before we had gone five miles with it. And Mr. Van Platt sent his car out to bring us home when we telephoned his wife the plight we were in. ‘And, after the garage man put in a new one, he said I might as well see if I couldn’t save the price of it by sending the broken one up to the maker’s place. So I had him send it. And they wouldn’t make it good. ‘“‘But—oh, Hardy, I did want to see you so badly! Was I so dreadfully bad? It seems a year since I left Newark.” When they had greeted each other suffi- ciently—which was quite considerably— they decided to go for a ride in Orton’s junk-car. It was the first ride she had had in the big machine. Of course there are some beautiful and interesting motor-rides to be taken around THE ARGOSY. Atlantic City. Anyhow Orton found them beautiful enough and interesting enough, so that it was quite a bit after one when, as they rode back, he paused at his hotel. “Just a moment,” he apologized. ‘I must telephone and see that everything is all right.” | “Well, hurry,” she urged. ‘“You’ve got to teach me to swim this afternoon. And the tide will be just right at three. It will be too soon after lunch if we aren’t eating in less than half an hour.” Orton hurried. As he reached the desk of the lobby the clerk called after him. “Telegram for you, Mr. Orton. It came about twenty minutes after you left.” He held up a yellow envelope. Orton tore the envelope open, his brain reeling a little with a feeling as if he had suddenly been hurled into mid-air and couldn’t see where he was coming down. The feeling was not helped a bit as he read. And instant later he went to the door of an occupied booth and began to plead with a stout, blond lady inside, for the love of high heaven to give him a chance to tele- phone. The message had said: Cannot cash check without identification. Telephone bank. Will wait there. 5 EMMA STEARN. The lady answered his pleas with a with- ering look, and spoke into the transmitter loudly enough to be heard through the glass doors: “Say, Edith, is Julia around? Tell her to come to the phone. I want to tell her about the dress Mrs. Reeves was wearing at the dance last night.” Really, all the difference it made was within Orton’s breast. The Federal Trust Company of Newark had been shut up just as tight an hour-ago as it would be when the blond lady got through telling about Mrs. Reeves’s dress, unless she talked right through to ten o’clock on Tuesday morning. CHAPTER XII. THE JOY OUT OF LIFE. | is probably true that the human mind never forgets anything. Orton remembered very distinctly that he had made the check payable to Miss Stearn as a slight extra precaution against theft. He remembered that he had intended to CoOnniclbooks (E@)