Argosy, Vol. 147, No. 1 — page 35: what you’re looking at

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

« Ww ae - a # * ‘ > * e : wn ye w * Ps . 7 Crm A? % ry - 4 > 3 ai e 3 oni" * * ys 3S ~~ oa 3 » oi a 1! tell F. > hd - » ' ‘ _ 1 aw ew : . * ee a Fe etter beneath him, she breathed a prayer of thankfulness. “ He’s all right now,” wheezed Randy as he dismounted. As boy and girl stood, eye to eye, @ steady look from him set her pulses to beat- ing faster, if possible. “ How can I thank you—for—for every- thing?” she began breathlessly. “Oh, I don’t know how to tell you how much I admire your courage and pluck and—” “ Please don’t,” he panted unhappily. “But I must. At least, I can’t. But I must try,” she said confusedly. “ Tf I only knew how to show how grateful—” “You can,” he gasped out, but in his eyes was the same steady look, “ That is, I—I—I don’t want you to be grateful. But if anything I did makes you li-like—like me a little, I’m glad. Because I want to ask a great favor. I want you to let me see you again.” He had spoken with the utmost simplic- ity. There was no hint of the flirtatious in his earnest manner as he stood there, out of breath, disheveled, torn, yet forgetful of all this and of the cold as well, not even putting on the hat and coat she had handed him. Sincerity begets sincerity, and she answered without thinking: “ Oh, I want to see you again, too.” Then she blushed. “Td stay now and talk to you,” he went on in the same earnest way, ‘‘ but I’m due at the office now, and I'll be awfully late as it is, for I shall have to go home and change my clothes. So, if you won’t think it a liberty, or presuming on what’s hap- pened, I’d like to make an engagement. My name is Randolph Beatty,” he added, “and I’m from Tidewater, Virginia. You could write and ask about me. Write the Episcopal rector at St. Mary’s; he chris- tened me. “ You'll find there’s—well, no reason you shouldn’t know me,” he concluded awk- wardly. “ Only, New York’s such a place nobody knows anybody. I might be Lord _ Knows how long getting some one to intro- duce us.” eres 8 cman Marsh,” she an- swered, dele ng the ultimate syllable of her ch! had been talking she had as 4 are — “< CONS: NT ‘ie Fae * . ey = Satine f se. I : 7 ij i Cerinne, but “ old man Mat had bitten deep. The thou ett mained with her that she could | aire v when it was herself who was admi see , than her father’s money. Here was the chance to find ¢ ut, 17 frank-eyed boy, who had won her ad tion so quickly by his fearlessness, whose appearance and manners ec 2 de- cidedly attractive, had struck a s none of the others had kindled. She ed to be sure he wanted.to see her, and alone. a Moreover, her father’s ukase dint could have no one to call on her m de it t necessary that they should meet i secret anyhow. That gave her a good exci ee pretending to be some one clse— Ace who had nothing to give a man except | 1er- self, pe First, however, the horse must be « e x- plained. ee ‘JI must be getting back to the a ACA emy, too,” she went on. “ You ina ‘ employed by a riding academy to give e sons to young ladies, and to get horses ac customed to park riding for them. This nis one is new at it; I'll have a good Lee ae practice for him yet. He’s easily s ae She had been watching Randy ca fly | and she detected immediate relief ie ne spoke of her employment. It seemed a a barrier had been swept away when spoke again, ‘‘ Well, that’s fine,” he said heartily. would like that job myself. I was broiig gh up with horses. But only rich people 1 afford them in the city. It must be nice to combine work and pleasure as you do. But you haven’t told me where I shall mi leet oe you, Miss Marsh, and when. I? “off ¢ at five in the evenings.” - e “I’m sorry I have no place of my o to invite you to,” she said. “ You kr how it is in New York, with e ca have to work—a single room in a ‘dece : neighborhood’s about all I can afford. But there’s a little tea shop near the : bert and near my place, too. I could mee et there almost any afternoon by the ‘tis get uptown—-say at f eomicbooks. com *, Be ++ ie - Ls Te eae