Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 11, 1925 — page 49: what you’re looking at

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

THE INNOCENT. Rimini, the violinist. He brings people to their feet!” ‘““ Must be good,” grunted Steve. Then: “ What’s a hijacker?” The other frowned quizzically. “T don’t know what’s in your mind, but ‘hijacker ’ is slang for a person who steals liquor from a bootlegger, who naturally has no legal recourse. Why? What brings this up?” ““T heard it to-night for the first time,” explained Steve. v4 Oh! ”) Paula came up and laid a hand on the other’s black shoulder. ‘“‘1’m glad you are so nice to my brother, Michael!” Then to Steve: “ Mr. Hamil- ton is one of my best friends, Stephen. I hope you will be given the pleasure of his friendship.” Michael Hamilton bowed to her. “A brother of yours, Paula, needs no creden- tials.” Steve tried to register urbanity, but the great voice of the fat man behind him broke out in a rumbling confidential whisper to somebody: “ Aw, he’s just a poor hick that got out of the pasture by mistake. Somebody forgot to mend the fence. To hell with him! ») Steve colored. Slowly he backed away, landing alongside the smiling girl in white, whose ‘hair was glinting unbobbed and nut- brown under the light. She looked like a regular old-fashioned girl. “Tm getting all confused!” he blurted. “You shouldn’t think that way!” she chided. “ Still, perhaps it must be strange to you. Are you going to stay here long?” “T don’t know. What makes you ask?” She looked down upon her clasped hands. ‘You might not like it here.” ‘“‘ You’ve got a clairvoyant mind.” Paula intruded, somewhat agitated. “Excuse me, Beth. Stephen, I’d like to speak with you.” Wondering, he followed her through the crowd and out to a small alcove near the main anteroom. A surly, blowsy, unshaven fellow in a gray coat stood there, dominated by the enormous figure of the fat man in evening clothes, whose blue eyes were cold- ~~ 203 ly alert though his body was inclined to sway. The eyes bored into Steve’s. “Send him!” ordered the fat man to Paula. Paula held out appealing hands. ‘““T wish you would not insist, Steine- mann!” “Aw, what’s the difference? All he’s gotta do is take a message. I can’t reach "em by telephone, can I?” <4 But—” “There’s nobody else. I can’t send a guest. Your servants are all women. I can’t navigate. This other fella here is leavin’ the city. That leaves it up to this »? “What’s this about?” demanded Steve. “ There’s a taxshi outside the door,” ex- plained the monster. “ I’ll give you address to go to. Give letter toa man named Tay- lor. That’s all. Wait!” The giant waddled over to a desk and scrawled a long note, which was folded into a heavy envelope. A bold address was writ- ten across it. ‘““T don’t like this!” protested Paula. “What you don’t like makes no differ- ence!” growled the fat man. Paula drew herself up to her full regal height. “Vou are forgetting yourself, Steine- mann!” “Aw, rats! Society stuff is all right in society, but this is business! Cut out the Ritz!” “T said you were forgetting yourself!” The fat man’s eyes flared. ““ Say!” he bawled, impatiently. ‘‘ Ain’t you got any sense? I’m tellin’ you to send this guy out there with this message— see?”’ Steve measured the great bulk of Steine- mann and decided that nothing short of a — fence-post would do; however, he reached his right hand out for a heavy vase. Paula countermanded with an imperious gesture. In amazement Steve set the vase down. The mountain of flesh addressed him. “Take this message, kid! Beat it!” “‘Steinemann!” pleaded Paula. Steve looked from one to the other. His eyes narrowed as he realized that his step- sister was being bulldozed in her own home. EoOmIcboo