Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 23, 1924 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

+ ~~ Mf pis wy ee! NEV OR He OE WEAN tm on vee ae Fe Te mA eae he Ww “y x van { iy ,? it ‘; \ > s d t WA Titel Bite) Whe Sas ' aed t\) ots he See 270 “Never mind my name,” snapped the girl. ‘“‘ You just tell Covert I want to see him, right now.” 50 it wasn’t simply a friendly visit. The clerk saw trouble brewing for the hotel’s guest, doubtless a result of one of his nu- merous affairs outside. The hotel, of course, was eminently respectable. But he transmitted the demand to the occupant of Room 618, and then informed Florence, ‘“Mr. Covert says he’ll be down in about half an hour.” : Florence’s controlled anger burst into sudden flame. “ Half an hour, eh! Well, you can just tell him that I’ll be up there in half a min- ute!” “Hold on, miss! Wait a moment, please! We can’t allow that.” But Florence was already in the elevator and on her upward way, and in not much more than the thirty seconds which she had allowed herself she was pounding at the door of 618. Receiving no answer she called through it. “You open up that door, Covert, and be quick about it, or I'll open it up myself.” Suiting the action to the word, she ap- plied a firm young shoulder to the panel. Florence Hathaway, née MacGowan, came of a very resolute race, she belonged to an age which has not developed youthful female modesty to the point of inconve- nience, she was a business woman who be- lieved in getting results—and right now she was a very angry youn woman. Nevertheless, the door did not open under the pressure of a hundred and_ twenty pounds of vigorous flapper, though it yielded a trifle. “Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute came Covert’s voice from inside. ‘‘ What’s your hurry, anyway? Waking people up at this hour Sunday morning!”’ The door opened as Florence was bend- ing her lithe young body for a fresh assault upon it. She thus faced Covert in an espe- cially belligerent attitude. He was quite calm, however, and exceedingly dignified, though his costume, so far as it was visible, consisted of bedroom slippers and a pink bathrobe embroidered with green roses. ‘What in the world is the matter, young +9 ee Oe eee 5 ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. woman?”’ he demanded sternly. ‘What is the cause of this rowdy performance?” “Rowdy performance! You're going to see a real one, if you don’t give me back my husband’s money!” : ‘Your husband’s money! Mrs, —” ‘Mrs. Frank Hathaway, and I want that hundred and eighteen dollars, and I want it this minute.” The altercation was attracting the atten- tion of other guests, particularly of two shifty-eyed men who emerged from adjoin- mg rooms. The clerk also arrived, with the hotel’s special officer. “Young woman,” said the latter, “I shall have to take you in custody if you persist in this disturbance.” Florence was considerably taken aback. Was the law, then, on the side of the crook? The thought steadied her, as a blow sometimes steadies a rushing fighter. She returned to the attack, but more calmly. ‘““ My husband,” she said, “ was playing poker last night in this hotel, with that man, and lost a hundred and eighteen dol- lars. I demand the money.” Covert became, if possible, even more cool and dignified than before, secure in the thought of the weekly sum which he paid for “ police protection.” “Tt is quite true,” he said, “ that several gentlemen were spending last evening with me. One of them, I think it was this young -—this young lady’s husband, suggested a Then you are game of cards. We played for some trifling « stake, merely to add interest to the game and to make a little fund for refreshments. My guests were generous enough to insist that the refreshments should be settled for in that way. I do not remember just how the game came out. If this—this lady’s ——husband lost a few dollars I am sure that he paid his score.” The hotel detective touched Florence on the arm. ‘“ Better be going, young woman,” he remarked significantly. Florence found that this game was stacked against her, as the card game was doubtless stacked against her husband. But she fired one more shot. ‘“My husband paid you by check, Co- COPMIG MOO KS ——s on eee ae. 3 ies ee. oh ‘ a 3 — a le AS AN ee Gol