Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 18, 1925 — page 80: what you’re looking at

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

250 in the big social hall with a bevy of delight- ful young people. ‘The orchestra was play- ing in the far corner of the room. The passengers filled every seat, overflowed into the hallways and upon the decks near the entrance. He found Mary Norman, look- ing lovely without her bow spectacles, her pale blond hair prettily dressed, and wear- ing a shimmering white evening gown. Seated beside her was Gertrude Thomas, equally delightful, but as different from Mary as midnight from morning. She wore a red costume, a small string of pearls about her white neck which so gracefully poised her small and beautifully shaped head with its crown of blue black hair. Gertrude had been telling her of her sec- ond experience with the boor from the West. “Imagine his boldness in having his chair placed beside ours after the way f squelched him the first time he spoke to me. And think of his bad manners in freezing us out of our places. I never sup- posed we would have to move. I supposed he would go.” ‘Bad manners or innocence,” said Mary. “‘ Supposing it was just an accident that his chair was beside yours.” ‘Pooh! Such coincidences don’t occur. And you know as well as I do that men are aiways arranging such accidents, as you call them.” “ T’d like to see this bold person,” Mary laughed. ‘ What does he look like?”’ “Why, he sits in the dining room with this man who is coming this way.” Mary looked up and saw Howard Camp- bell approaching. ‘‘ Heavens!” she exclaimed. “It must be Mr. McGarry. I’m sure you are wrong abeut him, Gertrude. He’s the most harm- less and nicest boy imaginable. Just a big, good-natured farmer. How do you do, Mr. Campbell! Gertrude, this is Mr. Howard Campbell from the West. Miss Gertrude Thomas of Boston.” Howard gazed at Miss Thomas with deep appreciation. He recognized her, of course. Rod had told him at lunch that she was the girl who had snubbed him. Gertrude smiled at him. When she smiled, she disclosed two rows of shining white little teeth, her lips curled delight- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. fully, and two beautiful dimples put in an appearance, one in each cheek. “Mary has been talking of you, Mr, Campbell. I am pleased to-meet you.” Conventional words, but as they were spoken in her clear rich voice they made his blood race. Some women have one sort of charm, others another, but Gertrude had everything. “Where is Mr. McGarry?” asked Mary, a trifle maliciously, because she could not fail te notice that Howard was a bit over- whelmed by her beautiful friend. ‘“‘ He said he was going to turn in. He didn’t bring any evening clothes, and the display to-night knocked him for a goal.” “Oh, how unfortunate,” said Mary. “ But it isn’t necessary to dress on a steamer. I hope he won’t disappear every night.” “The old boy will get over it all right.” He was answering Mary, but he could not keep his eyesvoff Gertrude. ‘“‘ You ought to know Rod, Miss Thomas. He’s the salt cf the earth.” “TI do not believe I care to know him if he is the man I think he is, the one who sits with you at table.” “That’s Rod. Nothing wrong with him at all.” “Gertrude has had a little misunder- standing in connection with your friend,” explained Mary. ‘“ He spoke to her with- out an introduction and this afternoon she found he had the next deck chair to hers. Sc . she moved her chair.” “Well, you wouldn’t blame him for that.” “She thinks he was trying to force an acquaintance and arranged with the stew- ard to place his chair in that position.” “ Please don’t discuss it, Mary,” pleaded Gertrude, her eyes snapping with annoy- ance. “* [’m trying to clear the matter up, dear.” “T can tell you this, Miss Thomas. Rod didn’t get his chair near yours on purpose, for the excellent reason that he didn’t get the chairs at all. I did. And as I had never seen you or knew your name at the time, it’s kind of certain that I didn’t make such arrangements.” Gertrude flushed to her ears. His words Gomichbooks (E@)