The Argosy, March 1907 — page 42: what you’re looking at

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

= 614 - oe tw - 75 ~~ Pi ® a oy Wy) iByRe x, ae iota SAP ah , Nr hee Ce (hy od De hey} AAG: ee Ts Ss > val a Ag a! FR Ww Ki A el Cocy\, 3 eee a ! o Alyy 7 Wi F , such a stir was more evident as a number of men in evening clothes entered and grouped themselves just beyond the broad-shouldered youth. “Mrs. Hillen Stewart’s box-party,” some one said. “ That’s Curtis Lichen, and next him is Dick——’” The informant’s voice was drowned by the chattering of new arrivals. “Who's that fellah standing by him- self? See, he’s taking off his coat. Good-looking chap!” “I dunno. I never shaved him. He’s one of them seciety bugs, though. Yeh can see by lookin’ at him. He’s got the good looks, all right. ’“Minds me of one of them magazine pictures The barber and his friend were swept along toward the balcony entrance, and the young man with the broad shoulders smiled grimly, for he had heard what they said and knew himself to be the person meant. Any one but himself would have pro- nounced the barber’s eulogy as not want- ing in truth. His head was almost classic in its outlines, a fact which the closely cut hair emphasized; the ears were small and set close to his head; his face was bronzed, lean, and thin-lipped, with a sharp, straight nose, well-defined eye- brows, and clear eyes; the forehead was high, and had he removed his hat one would have seen his tawny hair brushed back from if and lying Smoothly flat on his head. He was the sort of man who looks his best in evening clothes, and the ones he wore fitted his splendid form as only a good tailor’s clothes can fit; but one sur- mised that this was the sort of man who would look well in any attire. “Here comes the crowd,” said the man who had been pointed out as Curtis Lichen. There was a rustling of lace and silk as they came in, loosening their capes and showing bare throats pink and white ; and as they swept past the broad- shouldered young man he sniffed hun- grily at the subtle, delicate perfume of their sweet young persons, looked with longing upon their soft hair, their pretty clothes, and admired their attractive little mannerisms. Nine girls followed one another, and there was much hand-shaking and dof- THE ARGOSY. fing of top-hats. At the end of the train came a middle-aged lady of smiling face and gray hair, flanked by a gentleman of her own age who limped slightly and carried a gold-headed cane. Last of all, and whispering in the elderly man’s ear, was a slim, frail girl of exquisite pallor, a face almost thin, so delicately molded was it, framed in blond hair that gave back golden rays - in the electric light. | The broad-shouldered youth moved suddenly, and too late to repress an ex-: clamation; the babble that had ensued between the men and girls drowned it, fortunately. The gentleman with the cane was producing tickets for four boxes, and the girl was speaking to a man she called Bobby. She was not more than four inches from the broad-shouldered youth. He might have reached out his hand and touched her. His eyes were fastened on the back of her head, and the glow of her hair seemed to dazzle him. ‘“ What—Tommy not here!” the old gentleman wheezed. ‘ Can’t come? Out- rageous! Monstrous! He should have let Mrs. Stewart know before this.” He was led off, still grumbling. The girl followed with the rest. . 7 As she turned, her eyes met those of ‘the broad-shouldered youth, who, expect- ing this, had steeled himself to non- recognition. For perhaps several seconds they looked at each other. The girl seemed a trifle puzzled. But no sign passed be- tween them, and she went on inside. . As the party passed along down the aisle toward the boxes she pushed her way forward and caught the sleeve of a man who was chatting with a girl in pins and point lace. He made an ex- cuse to his companion and dropped back. ‘“ Douglas,” she said,.a trifle excitedly. “ He’s here, and I want you to do me a favor—a big favor—you will, I know, Douglas, won’t you?” The man pulled at his short-cropped mustache and smiled. ‘Well, sis, I suppose I will. But who is Ae and what’s the favor—eh?” She dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘Oh, you know—the man who showed me through the railroad shops—the mechanic I’ve spoken to you so much cCOmicboo!