The Argosy, Vol. 82 No. 4 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

594 “Mr. Kendry shows as much sentiment as anybody, and you could scarcely call your father a sentimental man.” “No, hardly. Aside from his love for his family James Kendry is about as senti- mental as a load of brick.” : There seemed to be some words between two persons, in angry tones, at the front of the house. Tom went to the end of the veranda, and beckoned Fanning to join him. Marie was taking her departure, as Tom had foretold. And she was going in no gentle mood. The door had closed, and the lady’s maid was talking to it. “This house will rue this day!” she said, shaking her fist at the imperturbable por- tal. ‘Ill show you!” With this she marched off, down the short walk to the gate, and in the direction of Burnside Avenue. But she did not go far alone. Even before Tom and Fanning had turned away Batterson flung himself from the door with a face in which the blackest fury was so clearly expressed as to startle the two beholders. He was muttering curses as he went, al- most hurling himself along, and they saw him overtake Marie. They stood a moment in short converse, and then went on to- gether. “There go the enemy,” said Tom. us have peace.” But, had he known it, this was but the beginning of war, as it is when an am- bassador leaves the country to which he is accredited. When the two young men returned to their seats they found Mr. Kendry there waiting in the doorway. “Fanning, come to my room a moment, will you?” His voice was firm, and had a peculiar metallic ring to it that made both young men look at him closely. His face was whiter than usual, but otherwise he was normally calm. Fanning followed him. Mr. Kendry shut the door. “Sit down,” he said curtly. “Fanning,” he began, plunging into his subject like a boy diving, “circumstances have taken such a turn that, instead of pro- ceeding in a decent, leisurely way, along perfectly smooth lines, I am compelled, or at least impelled, to begin action at once. You must remain here now, whatever de- cision you and Joyce may have reached. To-morrow I shall begin action in the su- ‘Let Inside his den THE ARGOSY. - preme court in your behalf. I presume that you have no objection to me as your coun- sel.” ‘My counsel?” repeated Fanning stupid- ly. “Why, I had no idea that I needed any counsel, Mr. Kendry. But if there is any reason why I do need one, there is not, in all the world, a man I would prefer to ou.” “Thank you. Now let me tell you a lit- tle story. About two years ago—it wasn’t two years ago, for it was in the winter, Joyce attended an entertainment and dance at the armory of the Second Battery, Sec- ond Field Artillery, on Franklin Avenue. There she met Batterson. He asked per- mission to call. He did call. He fell in love, or seemed to fall in love, with Joyce. “Batterson seemed a gentleman. He is well educated, carries himself well—when not enraged, as he was when he just left me—and is a good looki#g man. ‘“‘He came to me and asked permission to pay court to Joyce. In these days a father is lucky if he knows beforehand that his daughter is going to be married, and espe- cially lucky if he gets an invitation to the wedding. This old-fashioned nicety on the part of Batterson drew me toward him. I consented. He was rich, very rich. “T don’t wish to convey to you the idea that his wealth had anything to do with my consent. But human nature is human na- ture, and any parent, be it father or mother, is always pleased. when a daughter marries well financially, if all other considerations be acceptable. “He began to pay his court at once. Joyce rather liked him from the start. But even then she had this orphan business on her mind and did not care about marriage. She is obsessed with this idea. ‘Well, even so, it began to look as if the two ‘would make a go of it, and I wanted to know something of my future son-in- law. sonally, he has been as clean in conduct as most men, or had so covered his bad acts that they remained hidden. But in looking up the record of his birth, and his parents, and the title he had to his wealth, I was astonished to find that he had no title at a Fanning began to tremble, for he had a premonition of what was coming. He had already been told that he was born in Tre- mont. | “T don’t want to make this story long,” COMICOOOKS I began looking up his record. Per- . (C@