Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 76: what you’re looking at

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

66 you’ve earned the rest of that money I promised you—” “But, Mr. Smith!” Jenks stammered. “ How about your trip?’ How about your old home? You said you were homesick—” “IT was,” John Smith agreed. “I was damn near dead of it. But, son, I’m at home right now. Yes, sir, right here is home-sweet-home to me for the present— and here I stay!” IV. Ow a fine fall day about three months later two important-looking strangers alight- ed from a limited train and had themselves driven hurriedly through the streets of Othee to a side street hardware store known to them by description. The store did not accord with the description given them. It was dazzling in a coat of fresh white paint with black trim. The new plate glass dis- play windows were bright—one with a few choice kitchen utensils, the other featuring a washing machine of spotless enamel white with a plate glass let into its middle to dis- play the agitation of a sudsy, soapy sea. The interior of the store was equally cap- tivating with wide aisles, glittering displays of cutlery and novelties and new plate glass show cases. There were half a dozen cus- tomers at the time, and two brisk clerks were kept busy attending them. In only one way did the place answer descriptions, the sign above it proclaimed: LANSING & SMITH Hardware “The Washing Machine Kings” The strangers demanded John Smith. A clerk told them that Mr. Smith was in the country for the day. They asked for Caspar Lansing. Mr. Lansing was very busy, in conference with Mr. Albee, a local merchant. The clerk doubted if they could be disturbed. When Casper Lansing spared them a moment, he gave his visitors infor- mation which sent them scurrying past out- lying farms in a rented touring car. They found John Smith in the kitchen of a farmhouse. Clad in spotless white flannels, coatless, he was lecturing suavely on the merits of an electric washing ma- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. chine which stood hitched up in the middle of the floor. As he lectured he fed the farmwife’s weekly laundry into the wash- er’s capacious mouth, and guided freshly washed clothes through the electric wringer, and all without getting a spot of water on his immaculate raiment. John Smith’s eyes were sparkling, his voice was firm and mel- low, and the flow of his eloquence was a perpetual delight to the farmer, the farm- er’s wife, the hired girl, and five small girls and boys ranged in a group about him. ‘ John Smith!” his visitors gasped. John Smith wheeled at hearing his name. He knew them in a second—Burgess and Reed, two directors of the Eureka Manu- facturing Company. But he showed no astonishment. “You boys wait outside until I’ve fin- ished,” he said coolly. They would have protested, but he came closer and hissed, ‘“ Outside, you damn fools! Do you want to spoil a sale for me?” As they retired the directors heard Smith’s smooth expla- nation, “ My assistants remind me I have many other places to visit this morning. If you'll just look over this time payment contract—and sign your name there in the lower corner, on the dotted line.” The astonished directors of the Eureka Manufacturing Company sat on a kitchen step, watching the ducks and chickens in the barnyard, and considered the astonish- ing end of the six weeks’ search for John smith, a search which had employed a dozen detectives before Jenks was located in Chicago and a real clew secured. They had passed an anxious six weeks, and had a hard journey, and met a surprising re- buff at the end of it; but they were in des- perate need, and they had to wait patiently on the doorstep for John Smith, whether they liked it or not. John Smith went back to Othee with his visitors. “Caspar,” he grinned at his partner, ** Amos Bird has made a mess of the busi- ness. He got the Eureka Company in a jam, and they want me to go back to straighten things out. I’ve made my terms with them—complete control again, for as many years as I want to stay. Want to go back with me, Caspar?”’ CoMmilcooo SS (S@)