Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 121: what you’re looking at

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

BING, BANG, BOOM! from his recurring thoughts of Ruth. Any- way, he consoled himself, he was about to fulfil two of his three boasts that he had made to her: he was defeating Ellis Turner, and recalling the Majestic to life; and he would not ‘believe that the thing he wanted most of all to accomplish would forever be impossible. At the end of a week, the last work- man departed from the Majestic, and in the clearing on Prospect Hill, now swept clean . ef its weeds, but bitten to the brown shaggi- ness of an Airedale’s coat by a precocious frost, the hotel, in its transformation, stood gleaming white in the October sunshine. Inside and out, the building was reborn; and Bert, letting his dancing eyes feast upon its new beauty, thrilled at the thought that it represented a decisive victory over the hated Turner. The descriptive booklets, for whose per- suasive rhetoric Fred was responsible, «were all ready to be sent out to the public; and Bert felt certain that before another month would pass, the Majestic would be booked solidly for the season. He did not doubt for a moment the appeal that his hostelry would make to the public. In addition to the nerve-soothing quie- tude which was the primary attraction, he was prepared to offer his prospective guests certain means of recreation that would fore- go the possibility of monotony. He had laid out several tennis courts in the rear of the building; he had made definite ar- rangements with Seth Caldwell, Selma’s liv- eryman, so that there would be horses for those who cared to ride or drive; and there would be a nightly concert—nothing jazzy, of course, but music that would be fitting to the nature of the resort. ‘‘ And some day,” he told Fred, “ when I get some money, I’m going to buy that land to the east of the hotel and lay out a golf course.”’ “ That land belongs to Turner,” Fred declared. Bert laughed... “So much the better. I’m beginning to think that Turner’s a real estate bargain-counter. He meant to swin- dle me, and instead, he sold me a wonderful proposition. Isn’t that the truth?” Late one afternoon—the day when work 495 upon the Majestic was completed—Bert entered The Punch office, and found it de- serted excepting for the tow-headed prin- ter’s devil who was languidly wiping the ink-rollers. The boy informed him that Fred would return ‘‘ purty soon ”; and Bert seated himself, and, with a-smile on his lips that was a reflection of the one in his joyous keart, picked up one of the alluring booklets from the great stack of them on the floor and read it over and over again. His thoughts, though, were not on the printed page, which he knew by rote, nor on the photographic reproductions of the Majestic’s charms. In place of it all, he saw the face ef. Ruth, now warm with smiles, now ¢hilled by a spirited hauteur, but always rarely beautiful; the soft, brown eyes that could never quite attain to cold- ness, with their long, dark, sweeping lashes, and narrow lines of brow; the small nose that wrinkled just a trifle when she smiled; the full red lips that were dangerously en- ticing even when she narrowed them in her flashing intolerance. He wondered what she would think when she saw one of the booklets—they were to be released that night—and learned how he had fulfilled his promise to recall the Majestic back to life. He knew that she would rejoice in his success, if for no other reason than that it represented the defeat of Ellis Turner. The hurried entrance of Fred into the office brought him reluctantly away from. his thoughts; but when he caught sight of Fred’s face he forgot all else but the flushed redness of it and the unmistakable grimness into which his features were set. ‘“* Why—what’s the matter, Fred?” he queried. Fred threw his hat savagely to the desk and, spurning a chair, began to pace the room with long strides. stopped before his wondering friend. “ Bert,” he pronounced solemnly, ‘“‘ I— I’ve got bad news for you!” Bert started. “ Bad news?” he repeated. “Our ‘rest resort’ plans got all over town already,” went on Fred, “and of course Turner heard about it and—and made some plans himself! We’re—you’re ruined, Bert!” ‘Suddenly he COUMIC i AOOLK Colin