Argosy, Vol. 123, No. 2 — page 152: what you’re looking at

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

284 not been a drinking man, nor a careless worker! ”’ Jack, all at once, saw the light. ized for the first time that it would be im- possible to go through life without making errors, and he grasped the truth that a real man is steeled and matured by his miscalcu- lations. In that moment he decided that, after all, he was a high-class engineer; and such he should be. It had been a very fool- ish pride which had held him under for four years. The Cleveland collapse would have hurt him, but he would have been able to live it down. ‘There was no reason why he should not return now and face the people he knew. He would find a way, and he would start all over. ‘“‘|—I suppose you are hungry, and—” Jack was, and it was a welcome interrup- tion to the reverie. Yet it was hard to real- ize he was in New York again. He nodded affirmatively. | His companion looked at his watch, a bulky, heavy affair. ‘I’m hungry, myself, and—if om wouldn’t object to joining me—”’ ‘Jack was reentering the city by way of the Grand Concourse. He had no conscious recollection of the return trip from the mo- ment he left Brewster. ‘‘ Where shall I drive?” he asked. ‘“There’s—there’s a quiet liitle place at One Hundred and Fourth and Columbus—”’ Half an hour later they entered the Elysian and found a corner in the men’s café. Jack now had his first opportunity to study this somewhat mysterious and rather inarticulate companion. To the eye the man across the table did not give the impression of incompetency gairied from his peculiarity of speech. He was red- faced, but there were lines of strength about the mouth, and the eyes—gray—were cool and suggested beneath their easy poise an underlying sense of humor. Jack was notisure, as he met the gaze of the other, that he was not in some way being laughed at. He remembered, sud- denly, the look he had caught when glanc- ing at the’car on the ferry. Then, he was positive, he had caused the owner e the car distinct amusement. ~~. He real- THE ARGOSY. “What is your name?” the older man asked suddenly. “Wells!” hesitating, then taking the plunge: “ Jackson Wells!” ‘Mr. Wells—” the name apparently had meant nothing to him—“ you have been of service to me to-night—much more than you realize—” He stopped, grunting as he extracted a purse from his hip pocket. From it he took a bill and pushed it toward Jack. . “If this will recompense you—” a touch of eagerness—“ and, of course, you'll say nothing—” Jack looked at the bill. It was a hundred dollars. Into his mind flashed the picture of the needed attentions to his clothes—the loose sole of his shoe had flapped embarras- singly when he entered the café—but he was Jackson Wells, an engineer of former stand- ing. T'wo- weeks before he would have pocketed it gratefully, eagerly. Now he pushed it back. “I couldn’t think of taking anything, Mr.—” “Dupree! Clarence Dupree!” “Mr. Dupree! could be of assistance!” ‘“Then—” ‘The man’s voice, in his dis- appointment, trailed off more dismally than ever. He pocketed the bill carefully. All at once he brightened and turned to Jack again. “‘ Perhaps I could offer you a posi- tion—I need a chauffeur, badly, and—”’ Jack shook his head. It was a temptation. To become a chauffeur was one thing that had never occurred to him. It meant a liv- ing, and a solution of his immediate diffi- culties. His work as an engineer was not a tangible routine he could take up again in a moment. A free lance always, it might be days or weeks before he would get his first commission; Checks for his fees would not. follow until after that. But a chauffeur! No! He was Jackson Wells, consulting structural and metallur- gical engineer, and America’s leading expert on foundry construction. He could hardly accept a job driving a car, shoeless or no. “I appreciate your offer, Mr. Dupree!” he oie “but I’m not looking for a position.” The waiter brought their first course, xd for some time they were silent. But Du- cConiclboool I am mighty glad I, C©