Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 94: what you’re looking at

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

= ‘for us as human beings and just about as good as we are ourselves. What I’m get- ting at, if there was a nice supper like this laid out in my house and as nice a girl as Miss Banford working for me, I’d no more think of sitting down without asking her to join us than I’d think of flying! That’s what I hate about the whole blamed East and about New York in particular and, es- pecially, about rich people in New York—’’ Mr. Dixon cried with mounting heat before Henry could hurl in his spasmodic: “Why, Dixon, to be sure! You're absolutely right! I-—-as—Miss Ban- ‘ford, that is—I say, Gorely, why the deuce can’t you attend to business a little better? Why didn’t you lay four places?” ‘“It—it was my oversight, sir,” the butler sighed drearily. “Well, finish there as soon as possible, Gorely, and then run up and ask Miss Ban- ford if she’ll honor us with her presence rt pees “Oh, that’s all right, I'll get the kid myself!” the visitor said brightly. He left, at a gay and rather alarming skip, which set the floor to vibrating. Henry Curlew regarded his younger associate with a smile of exceeding acidity. “Whitmore, as man to man, do you really see anything about that little skirt to drive a man as wild as all that?” he asked, ‘TI think it’s downright damned dis- eraceful!’’? James exploded. ‘“ Hah!” said Henry, and stared a little. “Well, that sounds more like the level- headed chap I thought you were. That— well, I guess we won’t worry about it!” he chuckled abruptly. ‘‘ The little rat’s got him roped tighter than I ever dared hope. I don’t know what the morals of this vamp type are and I’ve got my own suspicions in this case, but she certainly has the goods when it comes to—”’ Strange indeed was it that Dixon should have saved the elderly Henry Curlew a “savage beating—but he did it by entering just then. Within James Whitmore, threads of self-restraint had been snapping at the rate of several to the second; within him hot, cowardly fury had been soaring to a point where only sudden death could have To be sure! “34 ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. prevented James’s fingers from twining about Henry’s vile throat in another half minute. Yet, now, James gripped himself and turned his blazing attention to Dixon. The visitor had Betty, slightly bewil- dered, upon his arm. He was beaming down upon her; and now he beamed at the room and even at James—and found something unpleasing about James and stared darkly at him for an instant—and then resumed ‘his beaming at Betty. Curlew’s sigh was thin and weak as the hand that waved the to the table. “Everything here, Gorely?” he said as they were seated, ‘ All right. No need for you to wait around, I fancy. That the coffee, over by Miss Banford? Very well. You'll do the coffee honors, Miss Banford. U-m! Most of the substantial forms of nourishment are grouped around me, aren’t they? A pattie, Miss Banford?”’ “Oh, just the smallest one, please, and nothing else,” said Betty’s sweet, soft voice. ‘I’m not—quite used to suppers.” “Why, kid?” Mr. Dixon asked bluntly, and James’s enraged ear caught the angry little undertone that seemed ever present when Dixon considered little Mrs. Whit- more and her probable wrongs. Well—er—”’ ‘“T mean, is it because you can’t afford that sort of thing?” the visitor went on, more sharply. ‘Well, we can’t afford anything like this at our house, of course,” Betty sighed. And her great, cool, innocent eyes rested on James for a moment—and James quite suddenly turned his whole attention to the table, for he had all but spoken that time. There was much to be seen on the table. There were patties—trich, fat little patties; there was cold beef; there was a salad, whose richness could be sensed even across the table; there were steaming hot, buttery little rolls; there was something or other swathed in a thick, thick sauce; there was another elaborate something which looked like a pudding. All in all, a man who ate well of this meal seemd calculated to go out like a candle flame in a tornado! James smiled internally. “ That’s not all for me?”’ Mr. Dixon was asking, as Henry passed to him a laden plate Comics ooksaco