Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 13, 1923 — page 103: what you’re looking at

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

a ¢ -~ - . SE PO a GOOD LOOKING AND RICH. be found. And, this much learned, John fancied that he would catch the next train for—wherever it might be. He had no thought of weakening now; this occasional slight nervous tremor was the direct result of the shock Helen had inflicted upon him and had no connection with the rather terri- ble Mr. Wicks. No, he would find Wicks and tell the truth and face him down, how- ever terrible he might choose to be! And when the first storm had passed— ‘“ Hello!” said John, to his tinkling tele- phone. “ Mr. Wicks’s office; Mr. Wicks speak- ing. Shall I put him on?” intoned the Pot- ter switchboard operator. “ Huh?” said Mr. Harley, and his throat tightened suddenly. “Does he want to speak to me, personally?” ‘Yes, sir.” “ Well—I’m not down yet!” gasped Mr, Harley. There was no cowardice about this, of course, although John did flush queerly. It was simply that—er—he had not quite completed his plans for talking to Wicks, on the one hand, and that he was not free to leave the office on the other. There were letters to be dictated before one gave any heed to private business. John dic- tated them with a queerly breathless effect that caused his stenographer to stare more than once. He looked around for other matters that needed attention. There real- ly seemed to, be none. His phone rang again. “Mr, Wicks,” reported the . operator. “ He was just talking to our Mr. Severn and I guess Mr, Severn told him you were in the office now.” “ All right!” John said thinly. There was a little clicking. “ Hello!” thundered the voice of Thurs low Wicks. “ Oh—yes!” “< Jack?” “¢ Yes.” “T’m back!” Mr, Wicks announced su- perfluously. “Yes!” John agreed brightly. “Yep! Didn’t have to stay up there, after all, thank goodness! Come around here, Jack!” i Siete 2 ee oe ee 8 ee no —e ae PS iy =< > ae o) i ia aaa ad Pak me 1Ze ei —— we i . ie | i : —— ‘ -. eS a “To your office?” “Yes. Right away. There’s a lot I want to talk to you about, young fellow.” ‘“ Well—ah—later in the. day, perhaps, when—” “Later be hanged! Come now! You haven’t anything to do there one half as important as what I want to see you about. Step lively, Jack. Got a lunch date with a railroad president, or I’d ask you to come then. Hustle. *By!” The telephone clicked again, indicating that Thurlow Wicks had said his say. Mr. Harley, swallowing, endeavored to bristle angrily. He issued commands, did he? And he expected to be obeyed. Well, since he had adopted that particular tone, let him issue his commands and be hanged to him! Then, again, he was in a good humor this morning. He had laughed twice during that brief conversation, which was really aston- ishing. Perhaps it was fate. Perhaps some kind destiny had selected this very morning as the proper time for the interview and— John rose suddenly and reached for his hat. He was going straight through with this Wicks matter now. There is something overwhelming about the Thurlow Wicks business establishment, The heavy furniture, the too thick rugs, — the sinister dark tones of the walls, all reflect the master of the place; so, even, do the employees themselves, most of whom Mr. Wicks selects in person. A soured and unsmiling boy receives one’s card and studies it with deep suspi- cion. He rises grudgingly, looks the caller over again, and vanishes through a small, dark door. Presently appears an equally unsmiling young woman, with heavy black brows, who appraises the caller all over again and makes her own decisions—usual- ly that Mr. Wicks is in conference, and— presumably—will remain there for the bal- ance of his life. With this technique John Harley was quite familiar, since he had visited the office frequently in the past for purely business reasons. His surprise was considerable, then, when the office boy smiled and hopped nimbly from his chair and evert hurried to open the gate in the heavy rail. ing. COMIC ~~ JOOKS.