Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

510 answer, so he’ll have to try again. Eh>... Oh, I’m sure he will. He’s not the sort to let error stand to mock him through the ages... . Yes, he’s at my elbow, seeking to slay me with a glance. . . . What? You’ve begun to doubt me already? Ah, well, it’s not important. .. . Oh, no, no, no, no—we understand each other perfectly, as red-blooded, ninety-six proof Americans should, instinctively. ... Yes? Oh, no—I’m running right up to see you. Car’s at the curb. Make it in ten minutes—make it in eight for you! Till then—bless you!” He clicked the receiver on the hook as Mr. Bennett stepped forward with out- stretched hand. Bill shook it vigorously. Mr. Bennett snatched it away, snapping: ‘“Impudent cub I wished to speak—-my own telephone—my daughter—”’ “ My Heavens,” cried Bill apologetically, ‘““T never thought! But I must be off. So sorry, but love calls, and you know love— but pardon again, you don’t, of course! Till to-morrow, then, and at this hour!” “He never thought!” ejaculated Mr. Bennett. “ Most assuredly, he never did, and never will.” The words formed themselves in Mr. Bennett’s mind. They did not fall trip- pingly from his tongue. He was beyond the power of speech when Bill slipped through the doorway like a draft of cold air; and when the vocal muscles in Mr. Bennett’s throat relaxed sufficiently to permit him to express himself audibly he feared tu do so. But he stood staring at that slammed door for a full minute, a very full minute, and then he dropped into his chair and closed his eyes. He wanted to convince himself that what seemed to have happened in the hectic minutes preceding actually had hap- pened. Even in this day and age it all seemed incredible. No need to ask now what the world was coming to. It had already arrived there. ho ngéd to inquire where it was going to, either. Its destination was equally obvious. Mr. Bennett lifted the telephone receiver from the fork as carefully as if it were a phosgene shell and asked: ‘Endicott go1t.” He waited, and as he waited he retallea the celerity with which the switchboard op- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, erators had connected his recent visitor with the same wire. Finally, he heard the repeat- ed, prolonged vibrations indicating that the young woman in the Endicott office was at least trying. After the pressure of the re- ceiver had begun to irritate his outer ear and the vibrations had strained the head of his ear-drum—if there are heads on ear- drums—the acid voice of his British butler trickled through, in response to his ques- tion: “ Sorry, sir, but Miss Bennett has just left. She didn’t say, sir. She seemed in a hurry. There had been a telephone call for her a few minutes before, sir. Beg pardon, sir, but-—” Mr. Bennett very deliberately Nooked the receiver. There seemed nothing else to be done. For the rest of the afternoon the general office of the Bennett Adver- tismg Agency was a distinctly unpleasant environment, not only for its president but for all employed therein and all who en- tered. Mr. Bennett left for home rather earlier than usual. Florence greeted him with a chuckle, a hug, and a kiss as he entered their apart- ment. She was a pretty little thing—but wait! Let’s do the girl justice, regardless of space and editorial protests that descrip- tion should not stop the seething action of a story. Truth is mighty enough to stop anything, and a one-eyed man would pause to look twice at Florence Bennett and grieve that he had but one eye to encompass the beauty and charm of her. Hair of gold—true gold, not the glaring red gold, nor bloodless white gold, nor un- earthly green gold—hair of pure gold, and lots of it, and it curled. No, it wasn’t bobbed—at least, not then—but it was -softly parted over her right brow, drawn gently back and braided, and it was so long that she coiled it snugly around her head like a shining cap. Just a4 moment, for you haven’t seen any- thing of her yet! Eyes of brown, with lashes and brows a shade lighter than the eves, a shade darker than her hair; oval face and skin of bisque; mouth deep- bowed, not small enough to be silly nor wide encugh to mar the lines of chin and cheek: nose-—ah, you're wrong there! It EO NOOKS C@