Argosy, Vol. 118, No. 2 — page 74: what you’re looking at

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

224 “Any time you need a bit of change— say, the price of a child’s rattle, Kazan,” she said witheringly, “‘ you come to me, and T’ll lend it to you—as long as you’re stop- ping at my House.” She calmly went on: ‘ You will return the money immediately, with some ingeni- ous excuse. It won’t do you any harm to exercise your brain a little, as well as your fingers. And—remember this, Kazan—you will make no further overtures to the girl.” The aggrieved young man opened his mouth as though to expostulate. Instead, his jaw only bobbed up and down mutely. For the Echo had leaned forward. And her eyes—which possessed the odd trick of narrowing to a slit and then suddenly di- lating to the full—seemed to spit a fire before which the luckless offender appeared blasted, shriveled. Trembling violently, his forehead beaded with perspiration—the man apparently was spun about by some unseen agency. He stumbled madly toward the door; finishing his exit at a run. The Echo, sternly composed, sat for a moment in thought; then, smiling cyni- cally, turned again to the papers on her desk. -Shortly a buzzer sounded and she took up the phone receiver. ‘“ Have him come up,” she commanded. She still was reading when there entered the room a personable young man, distin- guished by crisply curling brown hair, brushed well back from an intelligent fore- head, a slightly aquiline nose, sensitive mouth and chin, and a noticeable hesi- tancy, Perhaps it was this last that evoked the Echo’s transient expression of amusement, as presently she glanced up at him inquir- ingly. “YT am Alan Dmitrieff, from the accor- dion factory. You sent for me, madam?” politely.said the caller. Studying him quizzically, the woman re- ' marked: ‘“ For the life of me, I can’t un- derstand why, you should hang on to a Rus- sian tag like ‘ Dmitrieff.’ Couldn’t you change it to some good American name?” Embarrassment showed in the young per- son’s serious eyes, and he flushed, some- what angrily, but said nothing. THE ARGOSY. “Would you care to earn a little extra money, playing the violin here—say, four evenings a week?” the Echo asked abruptly. She explained her intention of having various solo numbers of merit added—as a frequent, special feature—to the music pro- vided at the inn. The terms she statéd offered liberal inducements, and the en- gagement as soloist was his if he desired it. Alan remained silent, his manner show- ing even greater discomfort. “You need not decide, this moment,” briefly said the Echo, again dryly amused. “Think it over, and let me know to-mor- row.” 3 The young man agreed to this proposal; thereupon quickly withdrew. While in his perplexity he trudged toward Avenue A, he espied Sophia back on duty at the book- shop, and dropped in to give her the news. ‘““T would jump at the opportunity, if it weren’t for the inn’s reputation,” said he, doubtfully. ‘“ Nonsense!’ Sophia interjected, “ ‘ Gos- sip has a thousand tongues, but little un- derstanding,’ I’ve read somewhere—and it’s true. Why, people whisper scandal about the inn, yet they can’t name a single thing to its discredit. Suit yourself, Alan—but I'd take it. You could leave easily enough, if you didn’t like the place. ‘““My opinion is, she’s only a queer, crotchety woman who’d improve a lot on acquaintance.” | ‘“She’s queer, alright,” Alan concurred. “Sort of puts a spell on you that’s hard to resist.” The girl nodded musingly— with a slight shudder. Nevertheless, her argument fitted so well into Alan’s own inclination, that by the time he had left the bookshop, he already had virtually made up his mind. In the first place, the extra money would be exceedingly useful in furthering his am- bitions. But, above all, the adventure it- self was one after his own heart. No one among his acquaintances ever had entered the inn. They only whispered—and child- ishly guessed—of wild doings in this dread House of the Echo. He intended to find out what went on there. With luck—for youth is optimistic—he would solve even the mystery of the Echo herself! | (eo) TOOK ANIC (E@)