The Argosy, Vol. 83 No. 1 — page 44: what you’re looking at

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

34 Exmoor got up. “Tt may not be successful,” he said soft- ly, “but I'll see what I can do,” and with that went quickly out of the room. Some three minutes later a page glided into the room and circled it. “Mr. Foxford!” he called in a shrill treble. “Mr. Foxford—Mr. Foxford—” “Here!” responded Eugenia Delroy’s escort, in a voice for all the world to heed. “Telephone call for you, Mr. Foxford,” the boy reported. The man knitted his brows, possibly wondering how he had been traced to the restaurant, but shrinking from any mental effort, he laid down his napkin and got up. “Here, boy,” he called out gruffly; “here’s a half a dollar for yer!” A titter of merriment went around the tables, and Foxford glanced at some of the people near him and winked ostenta- tiously, as a token of good comradeship; then he followed the boy a trifle unsteadily out of the room. Eugenia Delroy’s face was a vivid crim- son; she lowered her eyes to her lap and sat motionless, wretchedly miserable. Hampton got up quietly and took Ex- moor’s vacant seat in order to watch fur- ther developments. He was satisfied that the summons to the telephone was a result of some maneuvering on the part of his friend, but he was all at sea as to what might follow. Nothing did follow directly, except the failure of the man to return. Five, ten minutes passed. The girl was forced to look up through sheer nervousness. The people were staring at her frankly, half sympathetic, half amused. She glanced toward the outer door, as though seeking an escape, but a timid, helpless expression drew down the corners of her mouth and widened her eyes. “Damn shame!” exclaimed a well-dis- posed man in a far corner of the room, and it was the cue for another general laugh. Eugenia’s lips quivered and she twisted her gloves between her hands distractedly. She looked wildly around for some ray of hope, and she saw Jerry Hampton. THE ARGOSY. He half rose from his chair and bowed to her gravely. She started nervously, parted her lips as though she were about to cry out, then smiled piteously and nodded to him. Jerry waited for no further encourage- ment; he was already berating himself for delaying so long; he strode swiftly to her table, with all eyes upon him, and took the hand she held out to him. In that moment, which was a veritable ordeal for Jerry, the girl recovered some- thing of her self-possession. “How do you do, Mr. Hampton,” she said, loudly enough to furnish evidence to the spectators that she knew him. | “I didn’t see you here before. I want to go home; will you please take me out of this place?” , Jerry sent a waiter for his hat and walk- ing-stick. He had paid his own score, and there were no delays. “When the gentleman comes back,” he said quietly to Foxford’s waiter, “tell him that the lady couldn’t stay any longer and that she has gone home with one of her friends.” Eugenia took his arm, and they hurried toward the door. A party of youths, re- sembling the freshman variety, had the table nearest the door, and one of them looked up with a face full of guileless mer- riment and sang gaily: “Where did you get that girl? Oh! you lucky devil!” Eugenia quailed miserably and clung the tighter to Jerry’s arm, and then they saw friendly darkness before them and felt the cool night wind in their faces. CHAPTER IX, A BOND OF GRATITUDE. 4 THINK I can find a taxicab here in the yard,” said Hampton, as he and the girl paused outside the restaurant. She lifted a restraining hand and shook her head. “Tf you don’t mind, Mr. Hampton,” she EORNICLOOO (C cS (C@