The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 179: what you’re looking at

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

SAVING TWO CENTS. for an instant assume he was doing any- thing quite so prosaic as looking at. it. Billy’s mind was far removed from the ceil- ing or yet his law books. In fancy, he was visiting again a little island off the Maine coast; then he made a long jump to the Canadian Rockies, and in turn drifted back nearer home, where his imaginary vision took in the white- green breakers stretching along the shore- line of the quiet little Long Island resort where he had spent the previous week-end. Once more he was sitting on the veranda of the hotel, and again he was seeing the girl in white who had then attracted him. She was a pretty girl, a fascinating type, and her name was Alice E. Smith— he had seen it on the hotel register. She had hurt her arm recently; it was in a sling. ‘That was all he knew about her. Why was it that her face kept crowding itself into his vision? Suddenly, Billy Lines swung round in his chair. Some way he must meet her; here was an adventure in itself. Billy’s mind was made up. In answer to the buzzer his stenographer appeared in the doorway. “Anna, please call up the Brite Detec- tive Agency and ask them to send one of their best men up here at once; it’s an im- portant case.” Billy chuckled quietly to himself. What had he better tell the detective? He’d better tell him the truth and not try to make a mystery out of it. He just wanted to meet the girl, that’s all. He lit a cigar, reached for a copy of the Social Register and was running his finger along: the margin of the Smiths when the detective came rushing into his office. “Something serious, I expect, Mr. Lines?” “Not very,” admitted the lawyer, as he closed the door softly so that his stenog- rapher, at least, might be entitled to as- sume that a mystery of first rank was be- ing investigated. ‘The truth is,” confided Billy, “I’ve seen a girl—”’ The detective arched his eyebrows; he was prepared for anything. “A stunning girl, a deucedly pretty 169 one,” Billy continued. “All I know is her name—-you’ve probably heard it before— Smith; and she lives in Brooklyn. Oh, yes, she hurt her arm recently; it was in a sling.” ‘““‘Ump,” noted the detective: “Alice E. Smith, you say, and she resides in Brook- lyn and hurt her arm. Anything more?” “No,” said Billy, “except I’m very anxious to learn who she is. Do you want any money for current expenses?” “Oh, fifty dollars will start the case, Mr. Lines. I think we can locate your party all right; we’ll keep you informed by telephone. Good-day.”’ Billy waited impatiently for three whole - days. Then he called up the Brite De- tective Agency. ‘Have you found out anything yet?” he asked. “No,” replied the voice at the other end of the line, ‘“‘but we’ve got a clue, and I think we’ll be able to give you the informa- tion in a very short time. If you don’t mind, send another fifty around for ex- penses.”’ At the end of the week Billy’s patience became exhausted and he called up again. “Nothing doing yet,” advised the de- tective, “but I think we can make*a re- port Monday. What’s that? Oh, thirty- five dollars will be enough this time. Sure, a check will be all right.” When Monday morning came the de- tective was as good as his word. He walked briskly into the office. “Well, Mr. Lines,” he greeted, ‘‘we’ve located your party at last. Had to send a man personally to every Smith in Brook- lyn, and the register gives a few of them, believe me.” “Good!” exclaimed Billy. “And moreover,” continued the detec- tive, “we were able to obtain additional information that may enablé you to se- cure an introduction. We learned she hurt her arm while getting off a Fulton Avenue street-car. Now, your cue is to persuade her to let you file a damage claim; ought to be plain sailing.” “T get you,” said Billy. CORNICLOOOL< (C@)