The Argosy, Vol. 81, No. 4 — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

612 just fifteen minutes ahead of Orton on Tuesday morning. He had used that fifteen minutes to compose a note for Arlene: My Dartinc GIRL: Just got a telegram to come home and attend to some of the settlement of the busi- ness. Guess I can stand it. I am still of the opinion that there is no use trying to do any- thing more with the Orton cars. Id hate to have either you or your father lose any money on them. I’ve lost enough myself. There’s a good job waiting for me. I'll tell you about it when I see you. I may get back * by Saturday. Kiss the waves good-by for me; and think of a few million kisses and believe that I’m wirelessing them to you until next time—next week. Harpy. The note certainly stretched the mental reservation thing to the limit. It had been three years since he had received a telegram even remotely fitting the case; he had yet to locate the job that was waiting for him, though he did not doubt he would find it. But Hardy was desperate. He drove hard, as if in fear that she would pursue him and compel him to come back to interview her father and be put in a position to go on with that business. His early start, good roads, and good luck, brought him into Newark a few minutes after three o’clock. It was not until the familiar whistle of the traffic officer at Market Street halted him that he really drew a long breath and gave himself the relief of a look from the track before him. Here he felt safe. Here he began again to hope that he would find his shop’s door locked with a notice of attachment pasted to it, or some other legal hindrance to fur- ther activities in the loathed place. It was a hope he had almost lost under the terror of Arlene’s helpfulness. Suddenly his eye was arrested by the sight of a man standing on the little raised footway in the middle of the street for wait- ing trolley-passengers—the ‘“‘isle of safety.” He watched the back of this man until the face was turned slightly. In that interval he had noted that the fellow was standing rather unsteadily, apparently quite the worse for alcohol. As the man turned he reached up a hand and tossed the cigarette from his mouth. The hand worked excellently, though its wrist was still darkened with the stain of iodine. The face was that of the elder Jackson. THE ARGOSY. Orton laughed as he drove the remaining blocks. From one swindle he had been spared. He wondered how many had been put over on him during these last months. He wondered as a man may amuse himself with the mistakes that can no longer count. For he was through with the business. Through with it! Was he? Orton stared with sinking heart at the open door of his salesroom. Inside two men were walking about the demon- stration car. From behind came the clink of a tool dropped on the floor. Arranged along the wall in an even row, almost rub- bing hubs, stood three brightly new Orton Cars, their bodies shining defiance against any one who should forbid them to sell themselves. Herman had managed to see or hear the big runabout as Orton approached. He came forward with a smile that tempted his employer to violence. “Wall,” he greeted Hardy, “what you tank? The men was hollering they want their cars, and me and the boy wasn’t doing nothing. So I tank we might just as well ‘ get them ready. ’ “T guess pretty quick them two men comes around again to see if you got back. Four o’clock every afternoon, they been here. “Und the engines is all here for the next lot and the frames. Already Charley and me has most of the shafts fixed. Und mit the bodies Mr. Davids sends a note yet. I would have sent it if I knew your ad- dress.”’ Herman’s countenance had more expres- sion in it than Orton had ever noticed there before. He was pleased with himself, as anxious for a word of approbation as a bird dog that has just retrieved a fowl. And he deserved it Orton tried to speak it: “Herman, you’re the best man I ever had working for me. I—I wish I could—” But he was relieved at the interruption now afforded by the approach of the two strangers. He couldn’t appreciate what had been done. He could have groaned at the sight of the eager faces of the two men as they asked— ‘How soon could we get delivery on these cars?” Herman had handed him Davids’s note. He was mechanically opening it as he tried to think how he might answer the pair of inquirers. The heading of the letter with (EO) DOO AAC S (E@)