Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 101: what you’re looking at

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

Q2 you to do. I want you to find some- body among your acquaintances in Porto Rico who is honest, and would like to get into business. I’m going to put a lot of tables in that shop that I have hired on the Plaza, and I am going to make ice cream there, or have it made, to beat the band. Probably you don’t know what that means, but it doesn’t matter. I am going to be the only ice cream dealer in Ponce after one week from today. This you will keep to yourself; Mike, for I don’t propose that anybody shall know that I am back of the business if I can help it. It may not be ‘possible to keep it a secret, but you and I won’t let it out.” ‘* I understand, senor.” “T hope you do. [’d put you in charge of that shop, except that I think I shall want you for more important uses. Do you suppose that you can find somebody who can be trusted to take in the money and account for it honestly? ” An intensely eager expression came upon the secretary’s face. ‘Senor Barber,” he stammered, “ if I might dare to suggest that ” ‘‘ Why, go ahead, my boy; that’s just what I want you to do,” exclaimed Joe. ‘““ My mother, senor.” “Your mother? ” : “Yes, senor; we are very poor. | do not quite know how to tell you, but it would be a godsend to us, if you could let my mother take charge of the es- tablishment. It 1s not exactly a wom- an’s work, I suppose, and some people in Ponce might think it very strange, but it would be honest employment, and the customers, I suppose, would be mainly American soldiers, so that my mother would be free from any hu- miliation. . She would slave for you, senor, if you would but give her the chance, or let me leave the office and undertake the management with her.” The young man spoke in a subdued tone, and his voice quivered with ear- nestness. “ See here, Mike,” said Joe, laying THE ARGOSY. his hand kindly on the secretary’s shoulder, “I don’t want to pry into your domestic affairs, and you need , not tell me anything you don’t want to, but at the same time, I shall feel great- ly obliged if you will let me know a little more about the situation. You see, 1t’s a bit hard for me to understand how a relative of the wealthy Don Oc- tavio——”’ “Yes,” interrupted the secretary, “that is what makes it so hard. The don is rich, and we have always been poor. Moreover, my father died leav- ing heavy debts that my mother has found it hard to liquidate. We both feel bound to meet those obligations, senor, and hence we will make any sa- crifices within reason. The don is— very stern to us. I do not mean to say that he 1s unfair, or cruel, but he did not approve of my father’s course in busi- ness, and so even if we were minded to accept help from Don Octavio, we could not get it, and just now, senor, it is a question with us whether we can retain our little home. This very day, in fact—but I am afraid I should not tell you these dismal things about our- selves. You cannot be interested in them.” | “You go right on,” said Joe, de- cisively, “ I am intensely interested.” “I was about to say, then,” con- tinued the secretary, “that this very day, unless we can make a small pay- ment to our landlord, we shall be evicted.” There was such manifest sincerity and sorrow in the young man’s tone and manner that Joe was quite dis- turbed. Instinctively his hand sought his pocket, where he felt the remnants of his cash capital. . “How much do you need?” he asked. ‘Twenty five pesetas would do,” an- swered the secretary, “ and we have ab- solutely no resource in view until the first of the month, when my wages will be forthcoming.” “Great Scott!” thovzgnt Fo, “1 UN| S eo