Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 13, 1920 — page 146: what you’re looking at

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

424 a moment when there was trouble at the switch, and the current was cut off before it lighted the E S that should have com- pleted the TIM. ‘Then, in Washington, when the political celebration was at its height she saw the Times Building so hung with flags, and ban- ners, and bunting, that all she could see of their sign was the first three letters. ‘And in Los Angeles on a foggy night, an ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, angle of the apartment cut off part of her view of the Times tower, slicing the E S that she couldn’t see, from the TIM that she could see! The power of love! Fiddle- sticks!” — But you and I know that it doesn’t mat- ter how the effect is produced if the result is satisfactory; and that only for those who believe in his power does love work miracles. of the science of up-to-date merchan- dizing. And a single whiff of its stale atmosphere would have determined the character of the surrounding community, the mingled flavors of new oilskins, pitch, tarred rope, and marine supplies deadening the less forceful odors of fresh calico, leather and kerosene. One knew at once that Sanford purveyed to a seafaring cus- tom as well as to dwellers of the littoral. The grime on the small paned windows was months old, and the mixed display behind them fly-specked and stale with age, the whole place looking unswept ‘and dingy in the mellow light of the waning September afternoon. It was not the hour for either customers or loungers. Mr. Sanford himself, with something of the character of his immediate surroundings stamped on his person, sat - alone behind the knife-scored counter read- ing a newspaper. It was very quiet. Save Ss: FORD’S general store showed little by Chauncey C. Hotchkiss for the loud ticking of the murky-faced clock, the subdued sound of waves rolling in from the bay not forty rods distant, and the rattle of the paper as Mr. Sanford turned it, the emporium was wrapped in melancholy silence. - Presently there was a heavy step on the outside platform and the store-door opened. The proprietor glanced up, then with an air of wonder sat up; for the stranger who entered bore no resemblance to the usual habitué of the store, and, in fact, the little hamlet of Wickapemis rarely saw his like. ' That he was from the city was clear at a glance. The exact fit of his light suit pro- claimed it; the sparkle of the diamond pin in his noisy necktie emphasized it, while the yellow chamois gloves and high silk hat. the latter very glossy and worn at a tilt, shouted it. He was a trifle undersized as to height and a trifle oversized as to girth, but neither fact mitigated the air of self- importance which seemed as much a part Gomichbooks (EC)