Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 68: what you’re looking at

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

By ROBERT E. SHERWOOD mined optimist could not deny that self-evident fact. David MacKechnie was not much of an optimist, even in the R nine 0 was bad. The most deter- periods of greatest prosperity; like others of his Caledonian race, he made it a point to prepare for the worst. And the worst had undoubtedly occurred. He wandered dismally about the lobby of his little theater, surveying with consid- erable scorn the flaming posters which advertised the “ attraction ” within. Then he stepped past the ticket taker—who was certainly not earning his salary—and ex- amined the depressing emptiness of the auditorium. With a practiced eye he counted fourteen people in the audience—surrounded by great open spaces of empty seats. were probably twenty more customers up- There stairs, representing a grand total of nine dollars and eighty cents in paid admis- sions. Business was terrible. MacKechnie watched the feature film as it staggered to a conclusion. The handsome young mounted policeman had saved the girl from an unspeakable fate, and was re- garding her with love light in his eyes; slowly, deliberately, they stepped into a clinch—and faded out. Then came the ul- timate trailer: “It’s an Art-Plus Picture.” The wheezy organ broke into a brave march as the theater lights came up, emphasizing its emptiness. ‘“ Art-Plus, eh?” mused MacKechnie. ‘“Yes—art plus bunk plus hokum equals this—” And with a mental gesture he in- dicated the yawning mass of untenanted orchestra seats. 218 TOO = (©) S (C@)