Argosy, Vol. 85, No. 3 — page 80: what you’re looking at

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

422 Mosely, United States Senator from Cali- fornia, and generally known as_ the ‘ Rockefeller of the Pacific coast!’ Now, do vou begin to get a line on the workings of the plot, little one?” “You mean that if I marry this cutie the old man will pay to get rid of me?” “Yes; to get rid of you and avoid all the scandal and publicity that would come from having his son fired. He'll come across for a million.” ‘“ And they can’t do anything to me for it?” she demanded warily. “ Arrest me for kidnaping, or anything like that?” “Not a chance:” Tommy brushed the suggestion aside with a wave of the hand. “This boy’s of full age, twenty-three years old. He can tie himself up to—” Mr. Wilburt searched his imagination for something to stand as a totally impossible bride, but nothing occurring to him as worse than Miss Sinclair, he ended by simply saying, “ you. He can tie him- self up to you and nobody’s got a right to question it. Besides, their one effort will be to keep the thing quiet.” Queenie stirred her coffee thoughtfully. ‘“‘ Give me the sketch,” she said. ‘‘ How do we land him?” ; “Easy as fish for Friday. Catch him on the old ‘chivalry’ gag—‘ protest a woman’s honor,’ and all that sort of thing. You make up for an ingénue part, under- stand, curls and ruffles and giggles of sweet sixteen. You can do it all right. I remember a bit you had with the Mann- heimer show that was just the type I want. Only for Heaven’s sake, tone down that make-up of yours. This doll is sup- posed to be a shy, clinging homebody, not a belle of the manicure parlor.” “You leave that to me,” Miss Sinclair interrupted impatiently. ‘‘ Get down to the action. What happens?” “ Well, it’s like this. You’re at a dance place with your cousin—I can get some chorus man with a dress-suit to do that part of it for ten or fifteen dollars—and you’re just as excited as can be over the novel experience of being out at such a place at night. Then I come along with THE ARGOSY. ‘Mosely and stop to speak to ‘ Cousin.’ He introduces us to you, and insists that we sit down at your table.” “Then you know this Mosely al- ready?” broke in Queenie. “Know him? No. But Ill make his ac- quaintance to-day, never fear, and ['ll manage to steer him to that dance-joint, too. Don’t you worry about my part of it Just pay attention to what I tell you, and figure on what you’ve got to do your- self. | ‘““Let’s see; where was I at? ‘ Cousin ’ introduces us, and we sit down at your table. Then, after a few minutes, Cousin excuses himself and fades, saying he’ll be back shortly. You and Mosely have a dance or two. You play up to him, but not too strong, understand—just the sort of fluttering interest that a girl oi sixteen would show toward brass but- tons—and, for the love of Mike, say as little as possible. You’re a regular Anna Held with those eyes of yours, Queenie; but, you know well enough, conversation ain’t your long suit. ‘s“And now the real work of the piece commences. Cousin doesn’t come back. You begin to get worried and uneasy, ask what time it is, and when you find it is after midnight, look scared and wonder what papa will say. ‘““T volunteer to go hunt cousin up, and come back looking grave. I draw Mosely aside and whisper that cousin has got a bun on, and has gone off with a crowd of rah-rah boys. “<The rotten souse,’ I say, ‘he’s apt never to think of this little girl again. We've got to get a taxi and take her home.’ ‘“‘ So, into a taxi the three of us pile, and speed it.up to old Dilsey’s house on Ninety-Fourth Street. Dilsey comes to the door himself, in dressing-gown and slippers, playing the heavy parent. ‘¢* Who’s there?’ he snarls. ‘*Tt’s me; papa,’ you Say. gentlemen brought me home.’ ‘Then you try to slip by him, but he bars the way, and puts up a roar that ‘ These DOOK nn Oh, yes. C©