The Argosy, Vol. 84 No. 1 — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

ee A CHRISTMAS MENACE. “ There ain’t no diner, sir,” replied the porter, ‘‘ but you can get sandwiches and fruit.” ‘Oh, sandwiches will taste good,” said Joyce quickly. “‘ Please send us a dozen.” ““ Er—er—all the same kind, miss?” asked the porter. “Let me see,” replied Joyce; “ you might send three chopped olives, three lettuce, three cheese, and three—three—” “They only have chicken and ham,” grinned the man. “Chicken, then,” said Joyce. “I sup- pose chicken would be more substantial anyway.” A few minutes later a boy began filling the seat at her side with square waxed- paper packages. “Wha — wha — what’s gasped. ‘““Ain’t you the lady what ordered sand- wiches?” inquired the boy. ‘“ But only a dozen,” replied Joyce. “ Nine, ten, eleven, twelve,” counted the boy. ‘“T wo- -forty.” “T didn’t know you used a whole loaf to each sandwich,” said Joyce as she paid him. ‘I’ve always seen the loaves cut in slices. But it’s all right,’ she added hastily for fear of hurting the boy’s feel- ings, “ for I’m very hungry.” The train started. Joyce picked up one of the packages and. unwrapped it. ““T never met a railroad sandwich be- fore,” she murmured as she regarded it curiously. “It doesn’t look like even a distant relation to the familiar afternoon- tea affair. I wonder they can both be called by the same family name.” She bit into it. She tried each of the four sides in succession. She glanced speculatively in the direction of the other eleven scattered over the seat at her side. “Will you have one?” she turned to her father. ‘““T don’t see any comfort in a cold sandwich on a night like this.” Dr. Jack- man’s voice was as chilly as the darkness outside. “ T’m not looking for comfort, I’m look- ing for chicken,” muttered Joyce as she this?” she 85 “took another bite through the thick, dry pieces of bread. # The train was slowing down. It stopped, and people began getting in. ‘Oh, dear,” thought Joyce, ‘“‘ I do hope no one will try to crowd in with father.” She scrambled the sandwiches into her lap and smiled encouragingly at the pas- sengers as they passed along the aisle. The train sgarted again, and Joyce set- tled back with a thankful sigh. The new- comers had mysteriously disappeared into places somewhere in the rear. _ Joyce unloaded the sandwiches from her lap. She arranged them on the seat at her side in three neat piles. She had scarcely accomplished this when the train slowed down for another stop. ‘Oh, dear,” and Joyce again swept the ~ heaps into her lap. From that time on things moved so rapidly they left only a confused impres- sion on her mind. She remembered heading off a woman and child. They seemed determined to crowd in with her father. She used the sandwiches as bait. But it had been a jump from the frying-pan into the fire, A woman with children—they seemed aS numerous as the sandwiches—pushed and shoved and wedged herself, them- ~ selves, into, on and around her father. Scarcely an inch of his luxurious fur-coat remained visible. Too many to cope with, Joyce could only look on with terrified eyes. Some- thing would surely happen. It did. As they stood on the station platform Joyce was thankful for the cool night air as it fanned her hot cheeks. How she had grabbed together her be- longings and followed her father from the train she never knew. He was still fu- riously angry. Joyce caught explosive fragments of speech as he stormed up and down the narrow path that had been shoveled along the platform. At last he entered the little wooden building that did duty as a station. Joyce moved up quickly and listened from the doorway. . -comicbooks e0)