Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 158: what you’re looking at

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

784 and well-known figure in “ big business,” had lived well and grown a.trifle portly in the living. He looked the man of affairs, with decisive ways, one who pushed a but- ton and started great forces. The hotel keeper came in, bringing their luggage, and placed it at one side. ‘“Must have had a hard trip,” he re- marked. “ Ain’t seen such a snow as this in ten years.” “The worst I remember,” agreed Harms- worth. “ Thought we’d find a crowd here for deer week.” The hotel keeper shook his head de- jectedly. He was a weedy little man, with watery blue eyes and a straw-colored mus- tache which drooped at the ends. As a matter of habit, he carried his head on one side and looked suspiciously from under his brows. “We ought to have a crowd,” he an- swered; ‘“ but this storm will ruin my busi- ness. Just think of it snowing three whole days! And I’ve been waiting ever since summer for deer week. But I guess it’s the Lord’s will!” “Well, stir us up some dinner,” cut in Buchanan. “ Have many deer been seen?” “Why, there were a few trails down the valley, across the lake. But this snow—” He broke off and left them, shaking his head. Dark had added its pall to the storm raging about the building. “Queer old customer, our host,” ob- served Buchanan, lighting his pipe. “ Reg- ular money grubber, I suppose.” “ Probably,” agreed Harmsworth; “ but I guess this storm will hit him pretty hard. The last time I was here—and that’s long ago—we slept six in a room, though I'd engaged one in advance. But if the snow holds up I think we will strike a fresh trail early to-morrow.” They continued discussing the country and the shooting, with dark settling outside the storm-swept house. Everything about them bespoke age. the seats recaned in country fashion. « The floor was uncovered save for a tag rug here and there. On the mantelpiece stood bits of old china, an ancient vase, and a. clock which ticked loudly in the still room. Jt was a clean, bare room, suggestive of The chairs were old, - ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, scrupulous economy and painstaking clean- liness. “T guess you can eat now,” said the hotel keeper, putting his head through the half-opened door to the rear. “ You can just come in here.” For a few minutes nothing was to be heard except the rattle of knives and forks on dishes and the sound of hungry men These beans are fine,” remarked Bu- chanan, helping himself a second time. “ Best I ever tasted.” “Yes; they would go well with a big steak,” answered the banker. The hotel man, coming in from the kitchen, overheard him. “We don’t get many steaks up here,” he said a little caustically. “This ain’t New York.” “ Of course not, Mr.— By the way, I didn’t get your name.” “Hanks is my name—Silas Hanks.” He went into the kitchen again, shaking his head. Buchanan looked at Harmsworth, and remarked: “Sour old cuss, isn’t he? human kindness about him.” “Yes, he looks hard; but this is a hard country, Jim. I suppose a man is bound to be somewhat like the atmosphere he lives in.” “ You bet he is, Dick. Even you haven’t escaped New York. It has changed you.”’ “Changed me? How have I changed, Jim?” “Well, I don’t know. It’s been a good many years since we got together, and I have been looking forward to a holiday in the East with you mighty keen. On the train I was thinking of that last day we saw each other. We hadn’t been out of school very long, and you were full of ideas about building bridges and railways, spanning the whole continent with steel. Now—well, I don’t know, Dick—you talk in millions, and the other fellow seems to be building the bridges.” “ But I built my share. that. graduated, you know.” When the last of the beans had disap- ae No milk of Don’t forget C@TMmmicloooks It just happens that I have—well, (C@