Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 1, 1922 — page 170: what you’re looking at

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

960 adventure Fog Horn hunted out Bown and spoke earnestly with him. “You don’t like me,” said the old man, ““and I don’t like you. Let’s forget that for a minute. Consider Callie. She’s your daughter. She went and married the man she loves instead of taking your advice. Well, women do things like that. It’s their nature. Bown, you got a good chance right now to insure a lot of future happiness by telling that girl it’s all right and you for- give ’em both. If you take my advice—” “Tl tell you what I’m going to do,” Bown answered with venom compounded of all his meanness, his hate of Fog Horn and the active memory of his awful day, “I’m going to spend my last cent, if I have to, to have that marriage set aside. I’m going to send you to prison for the rest of your life. Yl make Hanlon and Callie regret this day until the moment of their death. That’s what Ill do!” But when the Queen docked Bown did nothing of the sort. A white-faced secre- tary was waiting his arrival for several hours. ‘“ Four newspaper reporters are look- ing for you on the wharf,” he announced. Bown started to say he would not see them. “Mr. Bown. listen!” cried the secretary, Le} Le] ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. displaying a sheaf of black headlines, ‘“ Wal- lace Schuyler is missing. The police want him for fraud charges. The man is an im- postor, not the son of Morgan J. Schuyler, but a nephew. The son is traveling in Europe. When your wedding announce- ment was telegraphed to New York, Mor- gan J. Schuyler issued a statement at once. Mr. Bown, absolutely you must make some explanation to those reporters!” And at this moment the reporters were not ten feet off. Richmond P. Bown was a genius in his own way. He heard and digested the star- tling news with no perceptible change of countenance. In the same moment, smiling, he stepped forward to greet the newspaper men, and his voice held nothing but happi- ness as he exclaimed suavely: ‘‘ Gentlhemen, I’m delighted to tell you that some days ago my daughter discovered her infatuation for Wallace Schuyler merely a passing whim. Her better nature triumphed against the false glitter of money and social position. She has married the man of her choice, a Westerner, a sterling fellow, a man of bright promise in the business field, Mr. Richard Hanlon, of the United Packers staff. Gen- tlemen, I shall be pleased to present you to the happy pair. Follow me!” U U A SONG OF YOUTH LIFE calls me out on the sunlit road, Out where the winds blow free, There’s never a sorrow in my light load Nor a care in the heart of me. And 1’ll drink my fill of red romance— Of love and laughter gay— And along with me will the lassies dance To the lilt of a rondelay. And when the moon o’er the shining trail Casts a veil of silver light, We'll charter a ship of dreams and sail Away on the sea of night. Nancy Buckley. comicloool C©