Argosy, Vol. 1 (1882) — page 98: what you’re looking at

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

THE AMERICAN SYNDICATE. gleam of infinite mischief shot from her eyes, which she turned forthwith full upon the American. It was so unmistakably the act of a finished coquette, and it told so clearly the story of nephew Victor’s real rela- tions to the household, that Joe could not for the life of him repress an an- swering twinkle of intelligence and amusement in his own eyes. His lips twitched, too, but he kept the smile back, although it seemed certain that Senorita Sylvia observed the move- ment. From then until the end of her song she directed her melody straight at the American, and Joe felt hugely tickled to think that the insanely jealous Vic- tor, glum and irresponsive in his cor- ner, was imagining that the words also were directed that way. So at the end, Joe, stirred somewhat by the same spirit of mischief that seemed to animate the senorita, ap- plauded heartily, and, his tongue run- ning over with compliments, asked tor another song. The senorita flashed him a glance that seemed like a chal- lenge, almost, and after a little hesita- tion, sang again. This time it was in pure Spanish, and again a song of love, although the words were neither good literature nor particularly good sense. It would have taken a man of extremely jealous na- ture to infuse a definite meaning into the lines, but there was hardly any doubt that Victor was equal to it, for _the scowl on his face deepened, and he was actually so disturbed as to fidget restlessly in his chair. Joe could not help enjoying the sit- uation, but with business ever upper- most in his mind, he feared to provoke the slightest atmosphere of discord in the don’s household. Accordingly he was rather chary of commendation after the second song, and so far as he could, he avoided the lightning-like glances that the senorita shot at him from time to time. T mendation that Joe reserved was amply given by the elder gentle- men, with the result that there was - more music. The Donna Anna herself sang for them, and eventually the aus- tere Victor somewhat ungraciously yielded to the senorita’s pleadings and joined the ladies in a trio. And so at length the party broke up with numerous expressions of good will and assurances of enjoyment. Joe went to his hotel with the prob- lem relative to meeting payments for ice cream freezers still unsettled; and if there was something else unsettled with respect to Joseph A. Barber, the manager of the American Syndicate was wholly unconscious of it, although he hummed and whistled such frag- ments of the Senorita Sylvia’s songs as clung to his memory. | CHAPTER IX. GOSSIP. SOMETHING like a revulsion of feel- ing affected Joe next morning. His breakfast was not palatable, the atmos- phere seemed depressing; the Porto Rico buildings and streets looked squalid and uninteresting. This was not right, and Joe knew it. He wondered if he were coming down with fever. That was altogether un- likely, for he was then, as always, in a condition of aggressive good health. Moreover, there were his compatriots, the soldiers, whom he saw about him every day and at every turn. They were men who had rushed from peaceful pursuits to the hardships and the privations of military life, and, quite unlike their comrades in the Cuban army of invasion, they were almost wholly free from sickness. in Ponce, but still, no hotter than many a day in New York. No, this feeling | of discontent could not be attributed to the weather. } The manager of the syndicate tried to shake off his depression as he we 59) It was hot - oOKe eo his office, but without success.