Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 124, No. 3 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

, os | ws 396 the vicious always settle, and in person, the account against them. In tears, de- spair, or callous ignorance of sweeter things, they pay. Old Nick is a shylock ‘par ex- cellence, and often when he comes grinning to collect, there is no Portia to plead or defend. Only one regret marred Julie’s ecstatic frame of mind. She could not dance. Her meeting with Artie had been so sudden, so unexpected a fulfilment of her half- formed desire, her transition from Four- teenth Street to the Mog so rapid, that she had not had time to plan to.go to her room and slip into her glad rags. Under her bed was a prized cardboard box. It con- tained an outfit for premeditated occasions; a nest-egg of attire suited to jaunts and high times. There were things pink and _ soft to touch. Frilly, tucked and diaphan- ous. The whole lot would have left room to spare if put into a man’s hat, but in accordance with the prevailing skimpy mode, there was sufficient to adorn, if not to Clothe, Julie. Also, for any exposed parts of her person there were suitable dressings such as powder and rouge. Carefully pre- served in a creased scrap ofsilver paper was a small nubbin of greasy pomade the hue of crimson lake. This was the remains of one of Miss Blonde’s lips-sticks. A prized relic of the great; an unguent salve, chemi- cally dyed and perfumed with an odor of decayed rose petals. So far as concerned this evening, Julie’s trousseau de joie was useless; but for this very reason she ap- peared at her best. Julie would not have agreed with this; beside Artie who saw in the rose-pink of her flushed cheeks, the clear red of her lips, _and the childish eagerness of her glance, the signs of untarnished youth. In common with adolescent male cubs of sporty, pre- dilections Julie was proud to think she was @ devil of a good fellow. She plumed her- self on being sophisticated and as yet was no further in evil than a mischievous imp who peeks through the canvas of some cir- cus side-show. Among a gathering of déclassé free lances such as frequent the Mogs of the world, absence of the Cyprian taint is at once an attraction and a danger. No one was de- but there were others. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. ceived except the girl herself; and she, well satisfied with her perverted and glamor- bound view-point, did not bother herself to look beneath the surface. Life-taKers are punishable by election to the chair of sinis- ter power, and restraint is exercised toward the suicide by knife, gun, chemical, noose, and what not; but the subtle assassin of morale by suggestive dance and song, the moral suicide victims of undeveloped men- tality, are for the most part free, unham- pered agents. The snugly virtuous, glorified by contrast _ with their straying brothers and sisters have no counter influence over the Mogs; their condemnation is inert and nondestructive. As for the dwellers on the fence of medi- ocrity, their lack of high ideals and indif- ference to evils that do not immediately and directly affect them, renders them a negative quantity. They toil not for pro- gress, neither do they spin for posterity. A menfal attitude of indifference to evil is evidence of cowardice and is nearly as bad in its effects as active support of wrong. Force, in expressed opinion and action, is needed to put the profiteer in nod and heart stuff out of business. Swat all the grafters. This applies to the fawning, petty harpies of nickels and. dimes as well as the smug, sneering grab- fiends of illegitimate millions. A meek up- | lifting of hands and a sail full of sighs are not much good when it comes to squelching a Mog house, or bucket-shop. A fighting parson can do much, but a squad of husky cops will make a thorough clean-up in half of one-tenth of the time. As a matter of fact, the Mogolia became so popular, its ene so covetable, that a jealous com- petitof played a treacherous but socially useful and assisting part in closing it up— but not within Julie’s hours of initiation did the raid take place. No alien foot tres- passed, no harsh voice now pronounced in vulgar phrase: “‘ The house is pinched!” and thus broke the charm of the spell that held Julie in enjoyable interest. After dinner was over Artie leaned back inahis chair and glanced around with ap- praising speculative consideration. Here and there he met the eyes of several anthro- poides who were evidently more interested we fl ecomnileaoolks (CO