Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 139: what you’re looking at

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

A JOB FOR MR. FINNEY. ’a’ been arrested. As it was the motorman mighty near had a collision once or twice, twisting about to grin at them. “ About half past eight, shortly after Jake and Daisy had got settled comfortable on the sofa, in come Pharaoh. When he - geen them setting there, he stopped short. ‘“‘< Ha!’ he says, very tragic, folding his arms and breathing heavy through his nose. Then he set down in the chair he’d set in the night before. -“¢WVou been here ever since, Mr. Fin- ney?’ says he, very polite and sneerylike. ““* Of course not,’ growled Jake, letting on he was terrible sore at him. ‘ Why, I just come. The idea of talking that way. Are you trying to hurt my feelings, Mr. Evans?’ “«¢ What’s the use,’ says Pharaoh, ‘ when you ain’t got none?’ ““*Miss Spiffel,’ says Jake, getting up and making her a bow, ‘ I’m a gentleman, I am; and a gentleman don’t never quarrel before ladies. Good night!’ Then he beat it, leaving her setting there with her mouth open. “He didn’t hear what happened after that, he told me, until just as he was getting ready for bed. Then Pharaoh rung the bell, and dragged him out on the porch. ““* Jake,’ says Pharaoh, beaming like a full moon, ‘ you’re the champeen actor of the world. You should ’a’ seen the fight we had. The engagement is as good as broke,-I guess. I told her I’d be out to- morrow night, though. And then I’m go- ing to have another fight to make sure. She called me every name she could think of, short of swearing.’ ‘““* What’s all this fuss about anyhow, Daisy?’ I says to her. to get mad when I see you so fickle? you trying to get engaged to Mr. Finney, or what?’ “ «Say, yelled Jake, under Pharaoh’s nose, ‘‘ where do you get that stuff? What do you mean by putting such fool notions as that into her head? I'll drop out of this thing if you don’t quit it. Do you want to get me in the same mess you're in?’ ‘* All right! All right!’ says Pharaoh. ‘Keep your hair on! She didn’t say she was trying.’ 9 A Shaking his fist ‘ Ain’t I got a right. Are A417? ‘““*T should hope not!’ growled Jake. “Well, the next night Pharaoh went out to have his second fight with Daisy like he said he would, so as to be sure the engage- ment was busted. But instead of finding her in the parlor when he arrived, he found her down by the pond back of the house. She had a lantern with her. And maybe she wasn’t excited. ‘“““ What you doing here?’ asked Pharaoh. ‘“““S-h!’ says she, putting her finger to her lips. ‘I don’t want pa to know it yet, for if it wasn’t really so, the disappoint- ment might kill him. He’s been hoping and hoping, ever since Eben Morse found oil on his farm, that we might find it on — ours.’ “© Oil!’ says Pharaoh gulping susan hy: ‘Oil? You—you don’t think you’ve found oil, do you, Daisy?’ ‘* [t—it looks mighty like it,’ says she, her voice trembling. She pointed to the pond, holding up the lantern so he could see. And darned if there wasn’t an oily scum all over it; and you could smell it, too. — ‘“* T can hardly believe it’s true,’ says she. ‘So I’m going to wait a week or two and see if it keeps on coming up; and if it does —oh, boy! No more Gas washing at the American House for this lady!’ “Say, you could ’a’ knocked Pharaoh Evans down with a feather. to think how near he’d come to having a second fight with Daisy Spiffel, and busting his engagement for sure. All he had to do now, he says to hisself, was to pet her up a bit, and he’d soon fix everything O. K. But before he did it, he took the lantern from Daisy and walked around the pond » a-sniffing and examining the water careful, to make sure his eyes and his nose hadn’t gone back on him. But there was the oil all right, big patches of it. *“ Daisy,’ he says as they walked back to the house, ‘I feel awful we had that fuss last night. But it wouldn’t ’a’ happened if I wasn’t so wild about you.’ “Wild about me!’ says she. may be wild about me, but I ain’t about you. Not no more. I don’t marry no jeal- ous hound like you, Pharaoh Evans. Ill give you your ring as soon as we get in the GEomichbooks He shuddered - ‘Well, you - (e(0)