Argosy All-Story Weekly, January 13, 1923 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

Fa wees Some >> ~*~ * — > SS <> ie” = _— -— is ~ oa _— Se Coe co * = Se im te yo - See ~e they Fan, “- -*, ~ > ae - ene, the office in terror. He was fired! Thanks to Aunt Faith and to Potter’s conception of the right thing _ to do, he was without a job—as concerned that ten thousand dollars which must be accumulated before the Stevens-Harley nuptials, he was back at the starting point. From this, by the way, it will be seen that in John’s own mind the reconciliation with Helen was already an accomplished fact. It was his high privilege now to get out and hunt another job at a time when, as Potter had stated, such things were none too plentiful. And having found the posi- tion it would be his further task to explain in detail to Aunt Faith just why he had continued working and—oh, to the devil with the whole mess! Mr, Harley glared at his late friends and associates; not less than three of them coughed self-consciously at the same second and abruptly returned to their duties. Mr. Harley glared at his desk and found himself yearning for the society of Harry Wolcott, a sane, unruffled man and a capable thinker; and yearning so, he did brighten a. little bit. Monday was Harry’s easy day in the tutoring line; very probably he had devoted most of it to a capable analysis of the John Harley mat- ter—which being so, it almost preassumed that he had found the correct answer. John - glanced at his watch and was a trifle as- tonished to find that the hour of two ap- ee proached. He groaned and. set about leav- ing things in proper shape for the impend- ing Dixon. Most grateful calm came to Mr. Harley, however, on the four twenty, the swift train which takes the real business aristocracy back to Ebbridge daily. He had spared himself and the rest of them the agony of any formal farewell; he had reached for his hat, had emitted one “G’by” and filed. Now he seemed rather better able to think in a straight line. © For one thing the worst was certainly over. There was nothing left to happen! Having touched bottom, one’s incessant ef- fort must be upward, and this effort Mr. Harley would inaugurate by omitting the Wicks dinner ordeal and shutting himself up with Harry Wolcott for the entire even- -_ | ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, : 2 that several of them would have fled ing, until about quarter to ten. From end to end, they’d talk the thing out and plan— and if the thing wasn’t all talked out by the time he must leave for Helen’s, -they’d re- sume the conversation when he returned and, if need be, keep it up ail night! 3 There was something almost pathetic about the way in which John’s faith in Mr. Wolcott grew and grew. Tired eyes closed, he could picture good old Harry impatiently awaiting his return, all ready to outline the perfect solution of the tangle. When he stepped from the four-twenty, he even smiled brightly in anticipation of that great emancipating moment. Cars of the more expensive variety line up beside Ebbridge station for this train. Right here at the end stood a familiar dark red speed roadster—and Mr. Harley shied suddenly like a frightened horse, for this was Althea, come to meet her father—and ceased his shying and came to a sudden stop, because Althea -herself stood before him, all a-glitter! “ Jack!” she breathed. “I knew you’d come on that train! I just felt it!” “Well, I—I came!” Mr, Harley an- swered lamely, A slim arm linked affectionately through his own, for the edification of all who might care to watch. Miss Wicks gazed adoringly up at him. “{ don’t think your father’s on this train,” Mr. Harley mumbled. “I didn’t see him.” “‘ And I didn’t come to meet him; I came to meet you and take you for a little ride before dinner. You’re dining with us, you know. Dad phoned,” “Well, as to that,” John gulped, “TI think I'll have to beg off, Althea. You see, I have some things to go over with Wolcott to-night that can’t be postponed.” “ Work?” » “ Er—yes, work!” “ Well, as to that,” said Miss Wicks, as she halted him beside the red car, ‘“‘ you’re not going to do it! I shan’t allow you to work all day and all night, young man. Do you want to drive?” “ I—no, I think, if you'll just run me up to the inn, Althea—” “You'll go right to work? Well, you'll (@ .s JOU = — _ eons ~ Se : ae ee ~s — ~ ‘ =