Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 23, 1924 — page 139: what you’re looking at

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

THE SILVER KING. “This is so unexpected,” Elisa mur- mured, looking at him. ‘So unexpected.” ‘Come on, Salambo, cut that poetry out. Wha she say?” ‘Oh, dat ain’t nuthin’,” the Silver King took it blushingly, as Elisa continued to look at him. ‘ Lady, ef you evah needs a fren’, don’t nevah resitate to call on me. Dis old synopsosium of a husban’ o’ yours is de best pal I evah had in ma life.” Which, duly translated, only resulted in a “ corner ” on Silver King. “Let us,” the priest intervened, “ get on with the supper.” On the table reposed bunches of grapes, figs, oranges, dried meat, dulce, jellies, water cresses, white cheese, cebada, goblets of it, and native nuts. Sitting beside Elisa’s mother, the Silver King, as he was passed a yard of smoked something, examined it skeptically before he dared put it to his mouth. “ Fo’ Gawd A’mighty sake,” he whis- pered, “ where you folks get dis stuff at? Come givin’ me bolonie or some dam’ thin’ and callin’ it by some foxy name. Dam’ ef it ain’t hot.” At the head of the table Salambo, ob- livous of the food and the old lady shoving the tobacco in her odoriferous pipe with the Silver King’s good silver fork, drank of the pearls, that swam in Elisa’s eyes, and vol- ume after volume read his soul poems to her. It might be said, to her credit, that Elisa, between ‘sporadic outbursts of “ Fine!” ‘ Magnificent!” ‘“ Beautiful!” et cetera, ate, gulped, and surreptitiously felt the weight of the Silver King’s silver spoons. Ofttimes Elisa kept an eye shining with admiration on him down at the foot of the table, managing with masterly panto- 16] 297 mimic genius to talk to her witch mother at his side. As the night wore on and the guests drank and laughed and secretly weighed the silver, Salambo read more poetry to Elisa— read reams and reams of it to her, One by one the guests began to depart. First the priest who had to go ’way up in the in- terior of Salamanca, next the old woman, and so on. Soon it dwindled to four—Sa- lambo, Elisa, Silver King and the old lady. Sleep having claimed her, the Silver King began to look about himself. He too, had better be going. Nothing left to be eaten, Elisa at last was forced to focus her entire attention on her lover and let him saturate her soul with his ecstatic poetry. Com- pletely enthralled, she had naught else for him and the lovely pearls which fell from his lips. Oh, how happy she was! ‘Well, folks ’—the Silver King rose— “IT guess I’d better be beatin’ it.” ‘“ Going already?” Salambo inquired. ‘Yes, I guess I got to get back. Got to get up at six as ujual.”’ Suddenly lifting the lamp off the table, the Silver King gathered up the silver, table- cloth and all, and tied it up in a bundle. He even ducked under the table to see if a stray fork had got under there. No, every piece was accounted for all right, and, tying it at the top, coolie fashion, he grasped it, and said good-by. ‘See you later, Salambo, and tell that gal o’ yourn [ hopes she’ll make you a good wife.” : And as the Silver King closed the door behind him, Elisa, dumfounded at the catastrophic fall of her hopes of having that silver to flaunt in the faces of the local senoritas, sat there speechless, staring open- mouthed at the bare, hard, top of the table. U . IN THE ROUND ROOM BY HULBERT FOOTNER will be next week’s Novelette, another vividly thrilling adventure of Madame Storey in her search for the perpetrators of crime. It is by far the most breath-holding narrative in the series, each story of which 1s complete in itself. (€(0) NOOLKS ANIC (EO)