Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 7, 1922 — page 154: what you’re looking at

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

308 pay it back as soon as he could. Oh, I guess he will, Jackie, only—” “Yes, he will!” I cut in. “ You ean kiss that hundred farewell, "Cilla. I was afraid he’d pull that stuff all along.” “You don’t think he has been lying to me?” she quivered. I just broiled. “ Phat slunge! I oughta have tokd you what I thought of him long ago! Only I was afraid you wouldn’t listen. Well, hon- ey, he has gypped you outa the money, and now you see what kinda egg—”’ “‘ Jackie! You can’t mean he was decet#v- mg me all along!” the poor kid moaned. ‘“‘ Why, he has told me he loves me and as soon as he gets on his feet—oh, Jackie!” “‘ Fhe weasel!” I grit. “ I’m sorry, ’Cila. But a guy like him is never any good. It’s the fellows like Sam Cooley who—” Suddenly she flared up. ““E hate Sam Cooley! And you are his friend, and boosting him while you knock Bertrand! I shouldn’t have said a word to you! Even if I did loan him the money it’s all right. I won’t believe he was lying! He wasn’t, and I know it!” That’s our sex for you. Can’t beat us for abrupt shifts at times. Of course I tried to soothe ’Cilla, but she didn’t gobble soothing syrup worth a cent. All the rest of the day she frowned in si- lence, and when she went home had hardly a word of good-by to give me. - That soft heart of mine ached for the Nebraska girl, ast the same. I made allow- anees for her outburst. Im a day or two she’d be calmer, and better able to under- stand. After dinner I gave Vic Jordan a ring, and asked him to bring Sam Cooley over with him to my house. I didn’t know ex- actly what I had in mind, but F hoped to do something for poor ’Cilla. Vic and Sam showed up 42 little after seven o’clock. “We just saw your beloved Mr. Glendon on the way here,” spills Vic, right off the reel. “ Had a new hat on, and was all slicked up. Stepping out this evening, I supposer”’ Sam: Cooley scowled. “You saw Glendon?” I gasped. “ The ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, sharpy! hat Frisco stuff was a stall, of course. Do you boys know what that greaseball has dene?” ‘““What’s up, Jackie?” Vic realized I was It didn’t take me long to pour out the whole story, and I guess I expressed my opinion of Bertrand Glendon with more ‘* He’s the kind of slunge Gertie Hill got hold of!” I concluded. ‘“ Ninety-nine outa every hundred birds like him are the lowest kinda cheats!” “* Slapped the bee on her for a hundred men, huh?” Vie whistled. “The rascally punk ! ) ‘“‘ }’m surprised he has the nerve to stick around now—that he didn’t blow!” I snapped. ‘Somebody oughta knoek his btock off, and take that money away from him. If we only knew where he lived, or , ! 7) “} thimk I know where he lives!” spoke up Sam Cooley. “I’m going to call around on him to-night.” He started to ge. ‘““ Good boy, Sam!” I cheered. “ And Fill go with you!” uttered Vic. “No, Vic! 1 want to look after him alone,” Sam stated, very grim. ‘“‘ VH see he gets what’s coming to him if I can lecate him.” ‘“‘ Remember he’s @ great college athlete. Be careful, Sam,” sarcastically observed Vic as Cooley left us. “Oh, boy! E hope he gives it to him!” -E breathed. ‘“* Don’t think that a big lumber juggler won't!” declared Vic, squeezing my hand. And imagining a Walle boy of Glendoa’s general make-up in the vengeful hands of the husky Sam I almost felt a tiny bit sorry for him. For a coupla of hours Vie and myself waited, but Sam failed to return. “ Guess he couldn’t find the punk,” my friemd remarked as he was going. “In case he did, though, and I find out about it in the morning, I’: caH you up.” “ Better you do! They don’t like call- ing us girls at the Trojan, but this time is an exception.” When | reported for the daily dishing comicboooks C©