Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 172: what you’re looking at

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

798 don’t let any lopsided galoot like you pick my women or try to hand me one that he has got tired of in two days,” says I. “There is only one thing for you to do, boy. Run! Stampede! Take a vacation and give this town the absent treatment. I will carry the sad news to Octavia that num- ber two is on the casuality list with no in- surance, no assets and no liabilities. Are you on?” ‘“ Put me down on the minutes of this here meeting as replying in the affirmative. I am off for Dallas. Let me know general results and when it is safe to appear on the scene of action,” says Joe. Joe drops off the map and goes to Dallas to take in picture shows, shoot kelly pool and burlesque shows and wear a boiled shirt every day while I engages in the diplomatic art of untangling his matrimonial alliance with Octavia. When it comes to handling women there is no good in mincing words. I always cut thunder to a shaving, so with- out any ostentatious display I sets out to notify Octavia that her nuptial anticipa- tions with Joe are nil and hors de combat. Octavia met me with a convulsion of smiles. She nearly tore the door from its moorings in getting it open. “Ah! Mr. Silas Sterling—you need no introduction. Come right in. Mr. Ringo, the banker, and I were only speaking about you the other day, and he, like myself, was favorably impressed with you.” She wore one of those cute little flapdoodle, fluffy- duffy lace caps with a lot of ribbon bows cut in and out here and there—you know what I mean? I sat down bemoaning the hard duty that I had to perform. It began to dawn on me that there was a lot of miti- gation in Joe being unable to resist her. But I had a mission to perform and it was hard for me to get started on my speech. ‘“ Octavia,” says I, finally. “I am here on a painful errand. Where we bank and build on a foundation of sand we are sure to see our ideals and dreams crumble and fall from their pedestal—”’ ‘‘ Did you break a statue or something,” says Octavia seriously. ‘‘ It is of human heart strings that I would fain speak, Octavia. The man you relied ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. on to give your good name is a fake. In- stead of being inspired by a pure woman’s love and letting his wings feather out to life’s real ambition, he has soured and let his worthless spine turn to a whetstone.” “ Pardon me,” says Octavia, “ but I do not understand what you are driving at.” ** Can’t you see, Octavia? The man who promised to marry you has gone. Joe, that mangy, double-jointed sausage eater, who I have been calling my pardner all these years, has flew the coop.” I wiped the moisture from my brow to let that much sink in, but so far she did not show any symptoms of hysteria or fainting. She gazed at me steady for some time with her big blue eyes. ‘“T’m very sorry if he has been a disap- pointment to you, and I know that you will be very lonely,” says Octavia, giving me that dangerous ten-ton look that often proves fatal to mankind. “If he promised to marry me I did not know it—we were just good friends, was all.” She smiled at me ever so sweetly. I felt like a wheelbarrow load of bricks had struck me on the liver. Was Joe just kidding me to make a fool out of myself? “Then you and Joe were not engaged?” says I. “Goodness, no! Gracious, the very idea!” She laughed one of those little laughs that sounds like a cuckoo clock, and came over and sat down next to me on the sofa. “As I said, Joe and me were just friends, but I was in hopes, through him, I could get acquainted with you.” She sort of reddened up a little; I suppose it was her natural color as she did not seem that way at first. Octavia did not look so bad. She was just cute plump, kinder like a nice English plum pudding. Her house was a cozy little affair full of cushions, polished cow horns and comfort. There was nice rocking chairs, a soft plush carpet and a phonograph, and I began contrasting everything to our old camp shack—it’s funny what a lot of odds and ends a fellow can think up in a few seconds. I'll swear, without seeming to move Octavia had got up real close to me on the sofa. J don’t see how she done it, but she did. COMMICMOOOKS (C@