Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 24: what you’re looking at

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

174 gray eyes bent upon him, through a mo- ment of silence, and then once more he laughed. ‘“ Don’t misunderstand me, Mr. Dual,” he said. ‘‘ Not chivalry in the con- crete, but its application—perhaps.”’ “And this place of Rand’s,” Dual ques- tioned—‘‘ how may one reach it, Mr. Had- don?” “You could drive out there,’ Haddon said quickly. ‘In a sense it’s watched. There’s a chap has a ranch out there next to Rand’s, who’s keeping an eye out, and of course this Pablo Lopez is looking after the place. But—there’s no reason why you couldn’t take a car and go out there—”’ He paused at the buzz of the service tele- phone on the wall. At a glance from Dual, I answered, found myself listening to the voice of the Mocte- zuma’s clerk, relaying a request for an in- terview with Semi-Dual, frorn a representa- tive of a local paper. ‘“‘ Wait a moment,” I said, and explained briefly. Bryce grinned. I saw him, Haddon frowned and set his lips. His dark eyes held a question. But Dual’s decision was without hesitation. “Ask the desk to let him come up.” I conveyed the assent, and resumed my _ seat. Bryce lighted a cigar, still grinning. Haddon shifted his position and cleared his throat, and then there was a knock. Danny opened the door, and a young man came through it, a smile on his lips. “ This is good of you, Mr. Semi-Dual,” he began, advancing as Semi rose. ‘“ I’m Judson, of the Globe. I—just saw the name on the register, and I hoped—that is, I thought—” “That it had an oriental flavor?” Dual smiled as he spoke. “Well, yes, sir,” the reporter admitted quickly, his manner a trifle embarrassed by Dual’s apparent comprehension. “ Sit down, Mr. Judson,”’ Semi prompted. ““These gentlemen—Mr. Glace and Mr. Bryce, and Master Danny Quinn, are of my party. Mr. Haddon you may know, or at least have seen, since he has recently been in Nogales. Personally, I have known him some years. As regards the name, you are right. I was born in Teheran, Persia. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, My father was a Persian. But I have lived more in occidental countries than my own. As a matter of fact, I may say that I prefer your more progressive ways.” “I know Mr. Haddon,” Judson said. ‘“‘ And does Arizona—this part of it at least —remind you of Persia, Mr. Semi-Dual?” Once more Semi smiled, “ There are many things besides sand in Persia,” he re- turned. ‘* Though a sunrise over a sea of sand is a picture not to be forgotten, if one views it rightly. I may even make it a point to view your sunrise on the mor- row.” ‘“Youw’re—not a—sun worshiper, are you?” Judson inquired, his voice trailing off at the last as though suddenly he feared he had too greatly dared. But Dual smiled for the third time. *“* Save only as it is a support of mundane life,’ he said. ‘If, however, you think my life philosophy—what is so often called religion—will prove of interest to your read- ers, I may say that in my opinion the Her- metic Philosophy—which has recently been presented to occidental nations under one or more denominations, the most common of which is Yoga—best fits human needs.” ** Yoga!” Judson exclaimed. “ I’ve heard - of it, of course. ‘‘ You expect to remain long in Nogales, sir?” ‘““My stay depends upon its object— whether it takes long or not in the fulfill- ment,’’ Dual declared. ‘‘ And that is?’? Judson questioned. “The study of my fellows—their excel- lencies and shortcomings,’’ Dual replied. As an answer, it was comprehensive, though scarcely informative in any great measure. And Judson apparently appre- ciated the fact. ‘““Oh—just so, sir,” he said, and stood up. “I trust my story in to-morrow’s Globe will not prove one of the last.” ‘“ So long as it fulfills its purpose, I shall be content.” Dual rose also. ‘“‘ And thank you, sir—for the interview. Good afternoon. Good afternoon, gentle- men,” Judson said. “Good afternoon, Mr. Judson.” bowed slightly. Then, as the younger man, plainly some- what puzzled, plainly somewhat confused, Semi COMICLOO® (”) S (C(O)