Argosy All-Story Weekly, March 15, 1924 — page 47: what you’re looking at

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

iT “a anyways. barrel of New Orleans molasses. YOUNG his thumb nail, sticks it in his mouth, and puts a match to him. I watched him, fair fascinated. He drags the smoke down into his lungs and sends it steaming out of his nostrils. “TI didn’t know you things,” says I, in disgust. start?” “Last night,” he says.. “ I used to smoke ‘em in school between training. J’ve been drunk, too. I got drunk one night after we won a football game. I used to be fullback on the eleven, you know, Hill.” “ Full?” says I. “ Sounds like drinking, ~ Them cigarettes will kill you in time, Jimmie.” “ Heck!” he says—only he used the un- polished word. ‘I used to smoke ’em in the army. We all did. They won’t hurt me. Didn’t I tell you I was a tough guy. Husky, too. Do you know how husky Yam, Hill?” 7 ‘You look the part,’ I admitted. “Me?” he asked. .“ Heck! I can lick any man in the United States of my weight. This night I got’ drunk I licked a waiter twice my size, knocked him through a win- dow ‘and stood him on his head in the gut- ter. I should think so.” “ You been one of these whited sepulchers in this man’s town,” says I. ‘Oh, no,” he says, ‘I’m only septilat- eral. Every man is. When a fella shows only one side he is hanging a bluff. No, Hill, I’ve only been decént in this man’s town, -And what has it got me? Noth- ing! Posolutely nothing!” “ What’s the trouble, Jimmie?” says I, soft. ‘Who in heck said there was any trou- ble?” he asks, harsh. We didn’t .pursue that no further, for just then in comes "Lije. “Lije is like a He is round and tubby and from trying to please his customers he is sticky sweet. He wears smoked them ‘When ’d you ‘baggy clothes and he is bald and has a fringe of most onsanitary whiskers on his chin. The kind of eye he has you can see in a fish after it has been out of the water for a while. Well, when he first comes to work he is all hustle and bustle as a rule, trying to REBELS. 673 make his clerks think there is only five min- utes left to do a day’s work in. Generally Jimmie don’t need no example from him. Jimmie is lighter on his feet than ’Lije, and he can give him a head start and beat him to any customer. So when ’Lije sees Jimmie sitting in a chair smoking a cigarette, "Lije comes as close to a stroke of apoplexy as a man can come and still not bust an artery. “Why, Jimmie,” he bleats, “ what you doin’?” “ Nothing,” says: Jimmie, i and doin’ it- blank- blank well.” Say, that lad was becoming a finished swearer. There ain’t no question about that. His oaths had a reg’lar sailor tang to them. He would have matched up very well with any of the sailors goin’ aboard in the harbor for the out trip with a skin full of white liquor. “ Jimmie!” ’Lije cries. in’! i? ‘ You are swear- ‘ Swearing?” says Jimmie. ‘“ Huh! that is mild. Wait till I get up a - good head of steam.” “Well, why ain’t you got your jacket on, ready for work?” ’Lije “asks, : Me?” says Jimmie, flicking his ciga- rette to the far corner of the store. ‘“ I’m through. [I _ not working in this dirty joint any more.’ _ ‘Lije was between Old Nick and the briny water, so to speak. He seemed to want to have a stroke of that there apoplexy, and still he seemed to know he ought to chase that cigarette before it burnt his store down. All red in the face, he hops after the ciga- rette. He fishes it from under a crate and puts his foot on it. : “You tryin’ to burn down my store?” he demands. “Sure,” Jimmie says. “ Why not? They say fire is a great purifier.” ’Lije turns round to me all flabbergasted. He takes off his hat and rubs his bald head. Then he sticks the hat back on and combs out his whiskers with his fingers. “ Crazy?” he asks me. ‘ Just mad, I think,” says I. .’Lije turns back to Jimmie. “Now, now, Jimmie—” he. begins. ‘Oh, go to heck!” Jimmie says. Ccomiclooks.c© De . wee ee 3 -~ .