The Argosy for May — page 7: what you’re looking at

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

194 THE ARGOSY. To tell the truth, he had caught a fleeting glimpse of a smashingly pretty girl in the party which had alighted from the accommodation that afternoon —a dark, Spanish-like little beauty, with a ravishing smile and cheeks whose color was like the blush on a nectarine; and what young man of eighteen would not have been willing to drop his work and go chasing off on a mile and a half spin for the chance of a closer look at a di- vinity like that? Fortune favored him, moreover, on his quest; for, as he turned -in at the old Sampson place and wheeled smartly up the driveway leading to the house, he could see the midnight maiden on the veranda, engaged with one of her brothers in putting up a hammock. They were having trouble with one of the hooks, and were both gazing rather ruefully at the result of their bungling efforts when Harry came up the steps. He saw what was the difficulty in an instant. ‘“ Here,” he cried impulsively, “ let me fix that for you.” And in almost less time than it takes to tell it, he had the trouble adjusted and the refractory hook hanging nicely. “Oh, thank you,” smiled the girl gratefully. “That was awfully clever of you.” Harry blushed as though he had been caught stealing sheep. “You—you are Miss Ramsey?’ he stammered. She looked a trifle surprised. “Ves; I am Anita Ramsey,” she an- swered. ‘‘ Did you want to see me?” ‘Ves, ma’am—er—that is, no ma’am —I should say—”’ He ceased to struggle longer with his embarrassment, and, for explanation, merely fished the telegram out of his pocket and extended it to her without a word. - ‘“QOh,” she said, glancing at the super- scription, “this is not for me. This is for my father. Wait a minute, and I will call him.” A moment later the president of the New York Thirty- Fourth National came striding out on the porch, the open message in his hand and his face like a thundercloud. | Harry Rock had made no mistake, it seemed, when he ventured the suggestion that “Pig, Penny, Pugilist, Poke,” might veil a communication of consider- able importance. As a matter of fact, it was nothing less than an intimation to the financier that a cabal of his enemies, taking advantage of his absence upon his summer vacation, were about to spring a well-planned coup to wrest from him the control of the powerful institution which he headed. So fully were their designs perfected, indeed, that unless he were able to con- . front them on the. morrow, and by some measure turn the tide, it was practically certain that he would be dethroned. But Daniel G. Ramsey was a fighter, and, even as he hurried out upon the porch, a scheme was formulating in his mind whereby to circumvent the “ gang.” “You are from the station, are you not?” he inquired bruskly of young Rock. “Tell me, what time does the next train leave for New York?” ‘Bight forty-five to-morrow morning, sir.” ‘ “Eight forty-five to-morrow morn- ing!” the other gasped. ‘‘ Do you mean to tell me there are no more trains over this road this afternoon or to-night?” “Oh, yes, sir—plenty of them; but they are express-trains. Only the ac- commodations stop at Shunton Hills, two a day each way.” “ But surely one of could be flagged? ”’ ‘“T don’t know about that, sir. You’d have to ask my father, the station-agent. I’ve never known of it being done be- fore, though.” “Well, it’s going to be done now,” asserted Ramsey decisively. ‘‘ What time does the next express go through?” “ The limited, at five-sixteen.” ‘ Five-sixteen.” The banker snapped open his watch. ‘ Thunderation, I shall have to race to catch it!” He started toward a_ buckboard, which, fortunately, was already hitched up and standing under a tree beside the drive. ‘’ George,” he called to his son, “ run in the house and bring out my suit-case. Anita, you can come with me and drive the rig home.” And as Harry Rock wheeled more slowly back to the station, the buck- the expresses oO ComicoookSsc©