Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 170: what you’re looking at

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

160 The principal thing just now was to be sure of herself when she approached Mrs. Davison Wall. She wished to affect a man- ner that would cause Mrs, Wall to single her out immediately from the other appli- cants with the silent observation: ‘‘ That’s the girl I want.” Celeste began to practice before the mir- ror, drooping her eyelashes and standing like a small bundle of innocence. There was too much powder on her nose. That would never do with Mrs. Wall. Celeste’s hand reached for the little gold and plati- num powder box. It was gone. Her eyes scanned the dressing table. Her ivory and emerald manicure things, too, were miss- ing. The seal bag was not there. But there was a note, left by Patience Blow. It said: I’ve heard a lot about you and this maid- servant stunt you claim to have invented. You poor fish,I was pulling this gag when you were sweet and simple in high school— if you ever had a high school education. I just wanted to show you that you were too thick headed to recognize the brace. I’ve, skipped out with your diamond rings, your nineteen hundred dollars, you brooch and all U U ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. the other stuff. You thought I was honest when I gave you back a ten dollar bill, didn’t your - You never gave me ten dollars too much in the first place, you simp. But I knew it would give you a good impression. Let me warn you once more to stick to your own racket and lay off of this reference stuff of mine, because I got it up and I have the rights on it. TRENE* DAILEY. Celeste crunched the note in her palms. She was angry—angry as a woman can be. First it vexed her to have had the wool pulled so thoroughly over her eyes by a fellow thiefi—a “‘redhot.” But she was not a bit angered over the loss of her money and jewels. She’d soon get others. The thing that made her grind her teeth was the accusation that she was stealing some one else’s stuff. ‘“‘ The little cat,” she said. “I stole her stuff! She’s a liar by the clock, and I’m going to tell every dick from New York to San Francisco.” So, you see, while the Moslem proverb that “there is no honor among thieves ” may be true, scribble it into your hatband that there is a lot of pride among them. U U WHEN MARY WAS A LASSIE “THE maple trees are tinged with red, The birch with golden yellow; a And high above the orchard wall Hang apples rich and mellow; And that’s the way through yonder lane, That looks so still and grassy— The way I took one Sunday eve, When Mary was a lassie. You’d hardly think that patient face, That looks so thin and faded, Was once the very sweetest one That ever bonnet shaded; But when I walk through yonder lane, That looks so still and grassy, Those eyes are bright, those cheeks are fair— When Mary was a lassie. 10 A AMIE DOOKK (©) (S@)