Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 38: what you’re looking at

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

_pouted, near to tears. 508 at the phone. I ambled Jeisurely across the waiting room and tapped the tinkle tube to the left ear. It was Andy. — ——_—___—_———— CHAPTER IL. POSTPONEMENT, Y heart turned over, so warm that if it had been a flapjack it would have browned on both sides. “Oh-h, Andy!” I breathed. “ Where are your” His voice was quick and hurried and a little impatient. es Geax to the office,” he told me. “Now __ listen, honey, I can’t rank it by two. Stick around till five, dear, and I'll come for you - in time to get hitched for that five forty- four Lackawanna—” _ “Why can’t we get married at two?” I choked. “Because I won’t be through in time,” he explained im them writable accents that denotes somebody is listening at the other end. “ Got some business to fix up—think { can pull down a little bonus when tne boss gets back this afternoon. It “ come in handy on our honey-er—trip.” “J don’t care about no old bonus,” 1 ‘And besides, it’s bad luck to postpone a wedding. Oh, Andy, why don’t you come for me now?” “T can’t,” he insisted, stubborn. “You'd better,” I pleaded, desperate. “Oh, Andy, I feel if you don’t come for me now something terrible will happen. Please, Andy, please. You know how I hate—sus- “Now, listen, dear,” he resumed with pa- tient exasperation, ‘‘ you don’t savvy how nice this extra dough’s gonna fit in. So just sit tight or do something useful and wait for me—see? Now I gotta beat it. Can’t talk so good here so I’m hanging up. No, I ain’t mad at you. I’m just hanging up.” I turned, my heart dead, and faced the fishy eyes of the audience. “ Well?” they intoned. “ Andy says,” I gulped, tearful, then re- covered my customary poise. “TI have de- cided,” I announced, “ not to be wedded till later in “the day,’ and I set down to ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. my d desk, Foeie and tried to decipher my chicken scrawl shorthand. 2 little tit tter circled around me and my skin pricked. ‘Then come the gurgling gig- gie of Ida Snyder. 7 “In one hour,” she mimicked and the rest laughed. I raised my head haughty. ; “Accordmg to Mr. Einstein,” I re- marked, cool, “ time is relative—and to me it’s a poor pclae One hour or ninety,” ded, nonchalant, “don’t make no dif- ference in my youny life” All afternoon I resumed my duties as in --adream. Here i was supposed to be a bride and I wasn’t. I gazed around me, feeling alooi and detached like a spirit, and it did seem like death. course, that’s what 1 always thought marriage would be—a kind of death and a waking up to find your- self in heaven. But I didn’t know it was going to turn out this way—a death where you wake up to find yourself earthbound. Twice I had to face the boss agam, and t done so im fear and trembling, remember- ing how sassy I had been that morning. It was like tweeking the lion’s tail and try- ing te run—and discover you’re rooted to the spot. And all the time I felt like a jumper, all keyed up with every ounce of nerve and pep, whe takes the fmal run for the jump and is brung up sharp at the tape lme. Frustrated momentum is an awful thing. So the gang razzed me, good natured but gallme. Only Pell Prendergast, the sap, showed what a friend he was. He hook- eyed the rest of the afternoon just to tote my grips across the ferry and said he would wait for me till I come. Which I thought was real sweet of him, seeing as how he was merely a former dejected suitor. of mine, poor Pell. And outside the gray skies glowered, with the sun busting through like a false promise. At last my Andy came. - Of a sudden the skies cleared and the - sun sailed high in a sea of whitecap clouds. Then I took his arm, proud, and smiled at them who had dontted: And even ida Snyder come to me, fawning, to prove the old gag that the cat what scratches the hardest: purrs the loudest. oO Eomichbooks.co m