Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 16, 1921 — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

by T= to the tradition of his kind, a creature of habit, Amiable Amos made his morning call promptly at half past nine. At that hour he appeared on the fire-escape balcony and _ signified that Stanley Ray should open the win- dow. Granted admittance, Amos sat him- self on Ray’s desk and fixed wide, yellow eyes on the red-haired, youngish man who was opening mail. All this was according to program established for more than two months. At nine thirty, Stanley Ray, something of a creature of habit himself, returned from breakfast, bringing a trifling present of liver scraps for Amos. This had been going on almost since their first meeting. It had become a gentleman’s agreement. For all his red hair and traces of freckles, Stanley Ray had a pleasant if pugnacious sort of face and a twinkling brown eye. He was not older than thirty. His friend Amiable Amos possessed a beautiful, clear-gray complexion without a blemish, sported spreading, old-fashioned sideburns like a doctor of the old school, and waved a long and graceful tail. Stanley Ray wore a well-tailored busi- ness suit of fashionable brown; Amos was clad in a well-fitting collar that had riveted to it a small brass plate. The plate was inscribed “‘ Property of Miss H. W., Apt. 5A, the Grandonquin.” T. F. T. West Stanley Ray had never met Miss H. W., but he had seen her through her window across the court from his own. He be- lieved that to see her once was enough to wreck the happiness of the most con- firmed married man. But he was not even married, and he had seen her a dozen times. He had looked and leaped—leaped head over heels in love. By every device possible to a* well- mannered young man he had tried to win her acquaintance, and so far he got no farther than Amos. Amos called every morning, but Stanley Ray could: find no excuse for returning the calls. So matters stood when a red-faced, heavy jowled man with a nasty blue eye adroitly slipped a master key into the door of Ray’s apartment, let himself in with a step as velvety as Amos’s, and suddenly confronted the young man at the desk. Amos saw the intruder first. He rose and arched his back with distaste. His action caused Stanley Ray to lock up from his papers, and the eyes of the two men met in.a lingering stare, full of hostility. Stanley Ray’s lips twisted finally into a hard smile. He said dryly: “Pray make yourself at home—since you're already inside. That was my error in leaving the chain off the door—” “Your name’s Ray.” Dooling did not ask it; he accused. 140 NOOK (C@ (© S|