The Argosy, Vol. XXIV No. 2 — page 155: what you’re looking at

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

UNCLE BENJAMIN’S PAST. 347 x” ‘Splendid ! I can come up to see you every evening and “Indeed, you willdo nothing of the sort. It must not even be suspected that we are acquainted until I make up my mind upon Aunt Aurelia’s pro- bable attitude. And I must caution mother not to mention your name. Give me two weeks’ chance at Uncle Benjamin and, as we say up in Vankeeland, I’ll either ‘make a spoon or spoila horn.’ ‘It’s true, he may only abhor me asa schemer when he finds out, but even at that he couldn’t think any worse of me than that I would break plates on your skull.’’ As Lawrence said nothing more about getting married, Uncle Benjamin erroneously supposed the idea abandoned, and rather plumed himself secretly upon his success in persuading relinquishment of the pernicious purpose. Several days after that matter had been so satisfactorily disposed of, Uncle Benjamin settled himself after luncheon in the depths of the big morocco lined chair in his private office, for his customary siesta, when one of the clerks brought him word that a lady, who announced herself as ‘‘ Mrs. Dobley,’’ was in the store and desired to see hir. ‘“Who?”’ he shouted, sitting bolt upright and and very wide awake in an instant. ‘Mrs. Dobley, sir, was the name she gave.’’ ‘“ Nonsense! It’s Miss Dobley, my sister ;’’ though he wondered why she had come to the store. ‘Oh, no, sir. I know Miss Dobley by sight. This is a tall, fine looking woman, richly dressed, a blonde——’’ | “Keep her out! Iwon’t see her! Send heraway! ‘Tell her I won’t be back ina year—that I’m dead—anything: ’ cried Uncle Benjamin, waving his hands as if to keep off a specter. But by the time the clerk had reached the door, his fear gave him a new inspiration and he called, ‘‘ No. Hold on! That wouldn’t do. She’d force her way in anyhow. She must be letin. But, delay her ; keep her out a few minutes—make some excuse.’’ The clerk weut out, closing the door behind him. In an instant Uncle Benjamin jumped to his feet, snatched up his hat, slapped it on the back of his head and sprang to the back window. Cautiously he raised the sash and peered out. The stone paved area was a good twelve feet below, on a level with the cellar floor, too far for him to risk jumping. But if he could get down there and into the cellar, he might escape into the street while she was being ushered into the empty office. A new coil of rope—procured to repair a hoistway—lay in one corner of the office. He dragged it out, cut the lash- _ ings, made one end fast to a safe handle, and tossed the rest of it out of the window. In another half minute he had gone down it, hand under hand, like an acrobat. Here he found himself inatrap. ‘The iron shutters of the cellar windows were closed and, though he kicked at them in frenzy, he could not make himself heard by the porters; who were no doubt in the store above. And every moment he dreaded to see that woman’s head thrust out of the window above him. Looking about, almost in despair, he caught sight of the window of a banana cellar, open for the ventilation of the ripening fruit, and plunged into it. COMIGCLOOOL<S (<@)