Argosy All-Story Weekly, February 7, 1925 — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

man is right. “T guess I will,” decided Andy, bright, settling back—and the meal progressed with cheer. But as I watched him stow away the fried potatoes, the apple pie, the banana fritter and a sandwich as big as the islands named after ’em, I prayed fervent that when they all met again they would form a friendly little League of Rations for the peace of the world and my Andy. It was two o’clock in the morning when a guy that must of been the manager strolled over and jabbed Andy on the shoul- der. “Listen, folks,” he began, shifting a chee- root to the other side of his facial gravity, ““T don’t wanta break up your little party and all that, but it’s working on toward morning and the boys ’d like to have the chanst to mop up the place a little, prepar- ing for a new day, as it were.” “ ‘You mean you want us to get out?” in- quired Andy, dangerous and cool. f- “You pronounced it, mister,” smiled the man, bland. ‘“ Not that what we’d love to keep you with us and all that, but we’re running a first class restaurant, not a one- night lodging house.” ‘Well, I’ve went and spent my good money here, whatever it is,” growled Andy, though assembling his hat and gloves. ““Vah,” scoffed the guy, peeling off the veneer of courtesy, “you come in here, spend a dollar and a half and think you can do the same with the night. Why don’t you go to a hotel?” “Why don’t you go to—” “Andy!” I calmed him. ‘The gentle- We have dallied at dinner long enough.” I drew on my gloves, broad- casting the menacing manager a sweet, if vague, molar revealer, and swept from the joint with dignity. ““ Now what?” muttered Andy, still mad, as we emerged on Fifty-Ninth Street. “Tet’s follow Columbus Circle and see where it goes to,” I suggested with quiet carcasm, but it went over his head like a derby. “Naw,” he said, serious, “I think we ought to get a little rest—take that crab’s advice and go to a hotel.” “ Andrew Gibbons!” SS 516 ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “T mean different ones,” he corrected himself, hasty.. ‘“‘ You go your way and J’ll go mine—and we'll meet for breakfast.” “TY haven’t any coin.” “Well, here’s ten,’ he announced, slip- ping me an X. “And wait, you better have five more.” I backed off, horrified. “T can’t accept no money from you,” I protested. “Why not?” “ You may be my finances, but you ain’t my husband.” “Then Pll loan it to you,” he suggested, wily. “ That’s a safe proposition for you. By the time you're ready to pay Ill be your husband and you won’t have to. How’s that?” “Jt don’t listen right, somehow,” I ob- jected. ‘“ Mom has told me never to borrow what I can’t pay back.” He scowled. “That ain’t no reason,” he scorned. “There ism’t no good reason why you should turn down the first sensible proposi- tion that I have offered—now, is there, Elsie?” 7 I studied the tips of my satin walking slippers. - “No-o,” I remarked, slow. ‘I suppose they ain’t no reason why I shouldn’t trot to some nice hotel on money you loaned me —and yet— Oh, Andy,” I burst out, un- controllable, “it’s just—that I want to be with you!” “Honey, dear!” A silence fell and nobody picked it up. “Then we'll stick!” he finally exclaimed, triumphant. “ We'll see this night through somehow and kill time if we have to do the same to ourselves.” I smiled comradely. “But they’s only two alternatives,” he explained, rueful, ‘ the park or the subway. Now which would you rather do, honey, park in the park or the dark?” “Not the subway!” I hooted. “TI don’t feel like standing up for the mayor again to-night. 2 “ But it wouldn’t be crowded,” explained Andy. “ We’d have the whole car practi- = to ourselves.” “ Ho, a private car!” T remarked laconic. = =€O mn D0KS.. Eom