Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 4, 1922 — page 30: what you’re looking at

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

340 “Yes, sir! Tailored to your measure. Fit guaranteed. You ought to sign up on this thing, Mr. Andrews. There’s a mem- bership card you take out and—” Chester stopped. Immediately he was aware that too much eagerness had fright- ened away his prospective customer. The chief’s interest became a frigid zero. ‘“So that’s the line of bunk you’re ped- dling!” he remarked, brazenly harsh. “TI was just trying you out. Now, look here, Gibbs—they want men out at the foundry. Three dollars a day. You'll get your pretty pink fingers dirty, but it’s honest. I’m giving you a chance. You get a job inside of twenty-four hours, or you go in the jug —see?”’ Under the castigation Chester had grad- ually paled until his lips were a blue, blood- less line across his face. At the angle of his jaw one small knot of muscle leaped spasmodically. When he spoke his voice was dry, husky. “Tm not afraid of work,” he said, (7 only-——”’ “Only what?” barked the chief. ._ “Vd be wasting my time in the foun- dty. I’m not too good to do manual labor, but I'm a man with ideas. The trouble is, it takes time to put across anything really big.” ‘““'You’ve got big ideas, hey?” “Yes, sir. One of them’s about street- cars. fares jumped to seven and eight cents all over the country. I got an invention right now to put penny slot gum machines— small ones—over every seat. There’s a fortune in it.”’ Andrews grinned sourly. ‘How much work have you done on that scheme?” “T’m thinking out the details—it’s still in a preliminary stage.”’ The thick man got to his feet heavily and put a hand on the _ boy’s_ shoulder. “You're naturally worthless—that’s all. You’re a good kid at heart, Chet, but you need a tough job—a man’s job. You’re too stuck up to tackle anything in overalls. How old are you?” ‘ Twenty-one.” “All right. You can learn a trade in Everybody has loose pennies since ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. three or four years. Suppose you go home to-night and think it over.” The youngster moved toward the door, his head bowed. “ All right, chief—I’ll think it over.” “Remember what I said about getting a job inside of twenty-four hours?” “Yes, sir.” = “Well, don’t forget it.” Chief An- drews’s eyes were flinty. ‘ That still goes.” II. OvutsipE, Chester Gibbs was conscious of a burning sensation in. his face. Now that it was over, he felt he must be scarlet. A sickness ached in his stomach. Getting off the principal street, he proceeded, cir- cuitously, to Dave Walker’s pool hall and slipped into the entrance. At the back end, in a washroom, he took off his coat, collar and tie, and care- fully rolled back his cuffs. With the ut- most nicety he laved his hands and face; held his wrists under the cold stream from the spigot. The water soothed his fever- ish feeling. Dampening his hair, he combed it, and cleaned his nails. Walker was behind a cigar counter in the front end as Chester, immaculate, re- appeared. “Dave,” he said confidentially, leaning on the case, “slip me fifty cents, will you?” Walker’s face hardened perceptibly. ‘“ How's that?” he demanded. Chester repeated. “Tl hand it back to-morrow sure. Just a little bit short to- day.”’ Walker rang up a “no sale,” and passed over accoin. ‘ Don’t forget,’ he said. The clock in the window of the corner jewelry store showed that it was half past seven. Across the street in the Athens restaurant the white-topped tables gleamed - under the electric lights. Chester crossed over and affected to stroll by. At a table near the window he saw a fat man being served with a begarnished platter of beef stew—glimpsed, even, the color of the carrots mingled with the steaming meat. A keen moisture assailed his mouth. COmiclbooks.Gom