Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 40: what you’re looking at

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

194 ting into such a tangle. He could drop out of it whenever he chose. She had got money enough out of it to give her a week’s fresh start. All he had to do was to send her a line saying his business plans had fallen through. - Then each time he would see a vision of Ruth Dennison’s eyes and he’d know he had to stick, He somehow couldn’t bear the thought of a look of disappointment or distrust leveled at him from that particular pair of eyes. He didn’t understand that either at the time. Not that he wasn’t assailed by moments of distrust himself. Looking over the Help Wanted ads in an evening paper, his eye caught sight of a feature story in an ad- joining news column. Miss Terese La Fond, the paper’s chief ‘‘ sob sister,” was writing a series of articles on unemployment based on her own experience while disguised as a job hunter. A horrible thought struck him numb. Was it possible that Ruth Dennison and Terese La Fond were one and the same person, that he’d find the story of his mis- guided but well-meant prank spread out in news print to help make a Gotham August day less dreary and lonesome? He had to know! That evening he called at the Y. W. C. A. to find out. No, Miss Dennison did not live there. She merely got her mail there. No, they didn’t know where she lived or worked. That didn’t look so good! Next morn- ing he called on Miss La Fond at her office and was relieved. She most emphatically was not Ruth Dennison, not by at least fifteen years and a set of facial scenery that was little if any improved by earnest but misguided art work. But he was having harrowing troubles of his own these days, besides his continuous failure to find a job for himself or the girl. Within four days after he parted with her at the restaurant he had spent the last cent of the little balance left from what he had raised on his watch. His room was paid for in advance to the end of the week. But he hadn’t a cent to eat with, and nowhere to get a cent. _ All because he had met the girl, First, ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. he had pawned his watch and squandered most of the proceeds on her. Second, through her he had for the time being cut himself off from the possibility of borrow- ing from his friends. For he had given to the girl as a reference George Mersereau, his oldest and most influential friend in town. Then, to be sure Mersereau wouldn’t spill the beans if the girl made inquiries of him, Ferris had called up his friend and prepared him. But, being ashamed to confess the pre- sumptuous pretense with which he had be- guiled Miss Dennison, he let George think also that he was opening a business. So now to borrow a small sum from him, or any of their crowd, would be to confess the whole thing. Ferris suffered from a pride too stubborn for that. As for his father in Rochester, they had quarreled over his coming to New York, and -he could get nothing from home but car fare back and a promise of a good job when he got there. Not that yet! He’d try a little starving first. And he did starve for one whole day. He kept up his double canvass for jobs, but the old fire of his approach was spent. The next forenoon was the same. And to- morrow morning was the time set for Miss Dennison to report for work. He must notify her not later than that evening as he had promised. Poor kid! Perhaps she was out of money again by now and blissfully depending on him. In his desperation he went down to see George Mersereau that noon. He had hoped George would invite him to luncheon, but he had another engagement and could only see him for a few minutes. Unfortunately there was no hope of a job with George. His concern employed very few men, and part of those had been laid off during this year of business depression. “Come another time and stay ‘all day, Tommy,” he invited. ‘“ Anything special On your mind? You're not looking so well. Been sick?” “ Been pretty busy and worried,” Ferris admitted. ‘Say, did that little Miss Den- nison I called you up about ever ask you about me?” GComichbooks