Argosy, Vol. 112, No. 2 — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

194 THE ARGOSY. anyhow?” the second demanded without . looking up from his search for the lost page. ‘* Same old bally rot,” snapped the other. “Tf there’s a topic I’m fed-up on it’s the idea of a girl making a heroic sacrifice in marry- ing money for anybody’s sake. To my mind she’d deserve more credit for blowing the rich duffer’s safe. She cheats him on the deal quite as badly. He has some right to expect her love, and all he gets is her beauti- ful person. If I ever found out a woman had married me for my money, [ think I’d keep her till I tired of it, and then take her to south Celebes and auction her off to the niggers to recover the half-value she’d done me for.” It was rough talk to make within ear-shot of the girl. She moved farther down the rail. Her face was aflame. But the color soon left it. ** What in blazes are you talking about?” the man with the book demanded of the one who had just vouchsafed an opinion of it. “ Certainly not this book.” ‘“ She’s gettin’ off here,” the opinionated one replied. ‘““T say!” cried the other. ‘‘ What—” ‘T’ve been waitin’ a chance to hand her a bit. If the chap she’s marrying here isn’t rich, I’ll buy all the drinks for an hour. She’s looked all the way as if the captain had told her she’d walk a plank over the stern at Guayaquil. - Now, blessed if she don’t look as if she saw ’em lashing the board in the middle.” “Aw, youre a bit touched yourself,” jeered his companion. ‘““H-m!” murmured the other. ‘I’ve a fancy she was a damned pretty girl the last time she smiled.” The girl could not hear them now. Nor - could they hear her, though her lips framed the words that seemed wrung from her soul: ‘“Oh, God! God! Why did I do it?” (To be continued NEXT WEEK.) TO-MORROW -MORROW you'll put old scores to rest, To-morrow the golden rule you'll test, You’re going to love your neighbor best— To-morrow. To-morrow you'll pause the cry to heed Of the waif in want, the friend in need, To-morrow youll free yourself from greed— To-morrow. To-morrow you start to never more Open your ears to the gossip bore, Who whispers scandal of those next door— To-morrow. To-morrow you'll start no bills to owe; From thenceforth on you'll pay as you go— Economy thus you'll surely show— ‘To-morrow. To-morrow you'll spare your wife a kiss: Such as you lavished on her as “ miss.” You'll give her a taste of domestic bliss— To-morrow. To-morrow, in short, you'll brush your slate. ' *“T’ll start life’s sum afresh,”’ you'll state. To-morrow you'll say, “1 think [ll wait— Till to-morrow!” Walter Pulitzer. comicboo!l