ComicBooks.com Register / Loginit's free!

Pulp Fiction, 1919 · page 57 of 188

Argosy, Vol. 111, No. 1 — page 57: what you’re looking at

📖 Open the full issue in the page-flip reader →
Argosy, Vol. 111, No. 1 — page 57: Pulp Fiction, 1919

A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1919. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.

📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)

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

A LETTER OF DISCREDIT. Further, he had the feeling, later justified, that Guthrie would at least detail some one to follow him and watch his move- ments. It behooved him to keep up his appearance of assurance. But after a little he became confident that he was not to be the object of a hue and cry, and slipping into a quiet restaurant he ordered a luncheon which he neglected for the most part while he de- bated with himself as to his future course of action. And it was a bad half hour he put in. The more he thought over recent events the higher and more _ insurmountable seemed the stone wall of circumstances built about him. How bravely he had started out to build his life on a new structure of honesty, laid on a foundation of frankness! He had vainly thought that once his original bad record was known and discounted he would draw steadily away from it by putting between it and himself a new record for squareness. And now, after six months of worse than wasted time, he had succeeded only in adding two more charges of dishonesty, discreditable postscripts to his letter of discredit. It appeared that a continuation of his policy of frankness could get him nowhere but into the poorhouse or prison. But again his buoyant disposition rose to the emergency. He began to see a faint shimmer of silver around the edge of the cloud. After all, his bluff had worked with Guthrie to the extent of preventing his threatened arrest. The best of it was that it wasn’t all bluff. Perhaps, on the other hand, Guthrie’s threat had been all bluff. He resolved to push his own bluff a little farther and demand a complete show-down from Guthrie. He would continue his search for employ- ment and he would use Guthrie as a reference. ‘“‘T have a strong hunch,” he assured himself, “that the foxy old bird won’t dare give me anything but a clean bill of health.”’ Where to turn next for employment was the question. Should he continue in his dogged determination to get a footing in a law office? Or should he take the ad- vice of that managing clerk he had met AT during the first day of his search, who had urged him to try something less ex- acting as to records? If so, what? What was he at all fitted for outside the law? That train of thought suggested marine insurance, with which he had gained con- siderable knowledge during his stay in Guthrie’s office. The Great Lakes Marine Insurance Company had headquarters in Buffalo. Guthrie’s shipping clients dealt largely with that concern. Bradwell knew they employed a large number of clerks. On the moment he decided to try them. out. A half hour later he was presenting his letter of discredit to the office manager of the insurance company and explaining its purpose. ‘ They’re original, to say the least, Mr. Bradwell,” the man decided after reading it. “ Not a bad idea of yours, at that. We might possibly give you a try-out if you can show us a clean slate since you began over again. We need a clerk now, as it happens, and you say you know something about our business. Where were you employed last?” “With the law firm of Guthrie, Sandford and Pierson. You people know them, I think.” . ‘Know them!” the other exclaimed. ‘You bet we do. So you were with them? Why did you leave?” “We disagreed over the work they re- quired of me, and I made up my mind I was a little handicapped by my record in trying to follow the law. I am perfectly willing to have you ask them about me. I think they’ll testify as to my ability and honesty.” ‘“Nothing doing!” the manager ex- claimed. “ No. I’m sorry, but I’m afraid there’s nothing here for you.” Then he checked himself as though he realized he’d said too much. ‘But I shouldn’t say that, either,” he hastened on, as Bradwell started to rise. ‘“ Wait a moment while I speak to the chief about you.” He hurried into an inner office whose door stood near his desk. Bradwell, a little bewildered and uneasy, stood waiting, but half inclined to leave without further discussion. The manager’s ‘manner and expression, even more than GOMIIGIOO S CO