Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 23, 1924 — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

; ef 7 >) Nai hs } RAEN) joie { 7 Luyt Py Ue be 7 R ‘ gh waist Wee mae 7) a . ¥y es Lt. A TTAB) ee = w\) ‘es “yy > t i. ‘ , 192 course. Drayton’s shop. I'll show it to you when we come to it,” he told the chauf- feur. He turned to Alicia again. ‘‘ Good- by,” he said. She shook his hand. “Good-by. Let us know how you get on.” “JT will! he was gone. Alicia stood on the step of the porch and looked after the great car as it glided down the drive. Marion watched her. “ It was lucky he didn’t get badly hurt,” she remarked. “Yes,” said Alicia. ‘“ It was too bad of you, Marion, to treat him so shabbily. It was, indeed. It was petty, cruel.” Marion laughed and put her arm about Alicia’s shoulder. “You ought to go in the movies,” she said. ‘“ You could write scenarios between the acts. Romance and the Alpine view- point make a rotten tape measure, though. When you judge a man you want to be sure your eyes are in good condish.” “ Really, Marion, I think you might give me credit for an occasional brain. I’m not such a bad judge as you seem to think. I'll bet anything you like that that man was no ordinary laborer.” Marion gazed at her companion with a - searching eye. “ A fairy prince in an oyster shell canoe, I suppose?” she suggested, sarcastically. Alicia shook her head. “Something finer than that,” she said. “Something finer even than a real prince in a Rolls-Royce.” ‘““What’s that?” queried Marion. “A man in a Ford,” said Alicia; and passing Marion, she entered the house with a smile upon her lips which troubled Ma- rion, but which Marion could not under- stand. Good-by, Miss Ray.” And V. Two days afterward the man came back. He came humming up the driveway in a car which Marion afterward described as a country boy’s dream come true. It seemed to be a Ford, and yet it looked like the caricature of a racing car; it suggested a racing car, and yet one could not overlook ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, its unmistakable resemblance to a flivver. It had been painted crimson, once. The invalid dismounted jauntily from this car under the very porch of the Averill mansion, and very jauntily he mounted the doorstep and rang the bell. He was now clad in a pair of loose khaki trousers, a khaki shirt, and_ serviceable boots. While it was obvious that this re- galia had come fresh from the laundry, it nevertheless showed the amorphous blotches of grease which had been displayed more frankly upon his overalls. As far as grease was concerned, this young man seemed a beggar for punishment. Cowper opened the door, and at the same time, Marion, who had witnessed the visi- tor’s arrival from the lawn, made an ap- proach on the enemy from the rear. Cowper looked straight through the young man on the doorstep, and wasted few words, ‘“ There’s a door at the back,” he pointed out. He did not recognize the visitor because no blood was on his head, and he had come upon this visit clean shaven and _ neatly groomed. ‘The shave revealed his face as a good, blunt, cheery sort of thing. His gray eyes sparkled humorously under sandy brows, and his crisp, curly hair had more than a touch of red in it. Only a snowy patch upon the forehead bore witness to his recent accident. ““T called to see Miss Averill,” he said. Then Cowper realized who it was. ‘ “ Oh, it’s you, is it?” he asked. “ Well, she’s out.” “Go back and ask her again.” Cowper eyed him morosely. “When a gentleman says that a lady is out,” he remarked seriously, “she is out. You ought to know better than that.” “I do,” answered the visitor. “I saw her in the window.” “T’m sorry,” said Cowper frigidly, and would have shut the door, only the caller was a little too far inside. ‘If you wish an interview with Miss—” “Can I do anything for you?” Marion, directly behind him. He wheeled about. ‘““ Miss Brrmph!”’ he exclaimed—he could 2A It was Gomichbooks (E@)