Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 34: what you’re looking at

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

668 “That one,” Amalie broke in, fruit—oranges—or is it bananas?” ‘“ Unspeakable,” he agreed and mopped an indignant brow while she throbbed in sympathy. With an abrupt return to the practical matter in hand, he glanced about him. “It’s nice,” he said, “ to find some one I can really talk to—some one who under- stands. But the room-——-I should love to come, but I can’t pay over eight dollars.” She rose quickly, purposefully. “ { have one—a back room. Mrs. Proc- tor said I should get twelve for it. If you'll come up I’ll show it to you.” “ But. I can’t pay—” _ They went up to that refrain. The room overlooked the ailanthus tree and the soiled extension walls of neighboring houses. There were chintz covered chairs and a broad couch and a little table holding a small family of tea things. “ And there’s a little desk I can put in here for you to use when you study or write,” she told him. He regarded the room unhappily. “ Tt’s too beautiful, it has the home touch, but I’m afraid I can’t afford—” - ‘You may have it,” she broke in, “ for eight dollars.” ““ Oh, but you said—” “Eight dollars,” she repeated severely, “to you.” He was gazing at her raptly. “ You mean you'll reduce the price—for me!” ‘“‘-Ves,” she said resolutely. “I know I could get more for it, but I don’t care so much about the money as having the right sort of people here. Young men like your- self who feel the need of a real home— some one I can feel I am helping.” | “And you would take me at a loss!” He was breathless with ecstasy, but when she nodded he became thoughtful. “I believe —I’m-certain I could pay nine.” “Oh, no, that would be too much—out of thirty—what with your meals and your studies.” “ JT could manage,” he insisted. ‘“ But I couldn’t let you,” she said sternly. “Tt would be on my conscience. Perhaps later when you are making more—” ** about ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “Ah! Then I can make it up to you! And in the meantime,” his pallid cheeks were flushed, “ you must let me help you. You’re alone here—new to New York! If I could feel that I was being some help to you—some protection—” ‘* And you will,” she interrupted earnest- ly. “Im sure I ‘shall need your advice on all sorts of things,” “Then [I shall come in at once, to-day.”’ He squared his shoulders resolutely. ‘‘ Since you re quite alone here, the sooner I move in the better.” She told him, cordially, that of course he must move in at once and reminded him of the stuffed gas jets. ‘“‘ T shall put a stronger bulb in your table lamp,” she decided. “Tt might be best to interview you ap- plicants at the door,” he suggested anxious- ly as he was leaving, “ there are so many criminals at large these days.” When he had gone, she gave herself up to a delighted reverie. At last she had found an authentic prototype of her dream lodger. Such a nice boy! Only twenty- one and studious. Of course, she had rented one of her rooms at half its value, but what was money when a young man’s soul—and eyesight—were at stake. Be- sides, he had expressed a desire to help. A vague but comforting offer, that. She must see that he did not overstrain his eyes and drop a suggestion or two about his diet. His name was Swift—Philip Swift. No kin to the Elias Swifts in Sharleyville, how- ever. But the name had a reliable ring about it. And he was coming in at once. It would be nice to feel that there was a man in the house. He was so solicitous, too. Agreed with her that there must be peace and harmony in the home—which was what she was striving for. And there would be others as charming, eligible for the other rooms! But for a city of seven aillion’ souls of varied mood and color, New York proved peculiarly barren of congenial brother lodgers for the blithely contented Philip Swift. It was not until she had inserted a third advertisement and interviewed a score or so of undesirables, that the reluctant Comicaoolkxs (S@)