The Argosy, Christmas 1912 — page 123: what you’re looking at

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

ONE CROWDED CHRISTMAS. Frank realized that he might as well beard the lion then and there and have it over with, for he hardly expected what he had to tell would be received with perfect equanimity. An interview with the “ governor ’’! It is always an ordeal to be faced with reluctance from the early days of the wood-shed to those more mature ones when college bills or escapades have to be haltingly explained; and young Swanson now, in spite of his twenty- four years and assumption of full- fledged independence, had to confess to some of the old feeling of timidity and heart-sinking at the prospect. He hesitated a moment with his hand on the knob, battling against an impulse to put off the telling until an- other time; then, nerving himself to the inevitable, he opened the door and entered. . “Merry Christmas, dad,” he saluted with a hollow semblance of joviality. Swanson pére did not even look up from the papers on which he was en- grossed. “ Humph!” was his only response. For a full minute there was silence, the young man searching his brain for a diplomatic opening, the elder seem- ingly oblivious to his presence. Then the old gentleman, with one of those almost uncanny flashes of per- ception which had made him such a terror to his competitors, suddenly raised his head and transfixed Frank with a sarcastic glance. “You have come to inform me that you are thinking of getting married, eh?” he demanded. At this accurate reading of his pur- pose Frank could only flush and stam- mer in surprise. “ And you are going to tell me, too, no doubt,” pursued the old man, “ that she is the dearest, sweetest, noblest creature in the world, and that, with her as the guiding star of your life, you cannot fail to settle down and make a tremendous success of your- self?” It was exactly what Frank had had 109 in mind to say, although probably with more fervor of expression. “Well,” the father went on dryly, “we'll consider all that said, and your promises of good behavior accepted at par, or by pa.” He smiled a trifle grimly at his own wit. “ And now let’s get down to the practical aspect of the matter. How are you going to provide for this young woman you have asked to share your life, until all these castles in the air crystallize into something more substantial ? “I do not ask to know the name of your fiancée.” ‘The old fellow made a gesture of indifference. “ I am willing to concede that she is a paragon and a peri. But, since I take it for granted that you propose to supply her with clothes, food, a roof to cover her, and a certain amount of social diversion, I am a little curious to learn how you expect to do it on a salary of eight hundred dollars a year? ”’ Frank started to speak, but checked himself and remained silent. “Tl tell you,” the other answered his own question. ‘ You expect me to give you a raise.”’ He paused and sur- veyed his son with a slightly quizzical air. “Why, my dear boy, don’t you know you're not worth eight hundred dollars, or anything like it? I could get plenty of men to do your work, and do it even more acceptably at half the figure. I pay you that just as I give you free board and lodging here in my house, simply on account of our relationship, not as a return for any service you render. So now, if you think you stand any show of getting an advance in salary out of me, go ahead, and put in your request.” Again the old man had shrewdly called the turn on his son’s intentions; but, in the face of so brutally candid an exposition, what could Frank say? ** Nellie and I can wait,” he muttered defiantly. “ Dll be making more than that some day.” “Yes.”’ His father’s lips once more twisted into that thin, skeptical smile. “Perhaps in ten years or so you'll CoOMmicbook CO