Argosy All-Story Weekly, November 12, 1927 — page 154: what you’re looking at

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

628 fumed in the narrow booth. Then a man’s voice said: “Yes. What is it?” “Is that Mr. Bishop?” “This is Mr. Jobson, Mr. Bishop’s private secretary.” “T would like to speak to Mr. Bishop.” » “What is your name, please?” “Look here! Ive given my name two or three times already, and I’m damned if I’m going to give it again! I want to talk to Mr. Bishop, and if there’s any reason why I can’t, just say so!” “What is the nature of your business with Mr. Bishop?” “Do you mean to say I have to go over all that with you first?” “Well, you see, Mr. Bishop is a very busy man and—TI can’t put you on his wire unless I know what it’s about.” Billy exploded: ‘‘ Well, there’s one thing you can do! You can go to hell!” He slammed up the receiver and made a break for the open air. ‘““T don’t care a damn!” he muttered as he mopped his brow and strove to recover from his telephonic bout. “ Make a fellow give his life’s history to everybody from the janitor up! The devil with them!” But he felt vaguely uneasy about telling Una of this latest flare. He did tell her, though. And was not altogether surprised when she said, in a half joking tone: “ My big he-man will have to do something about that temper of his, I’m afraid.” And he felt more chas- tened than if she had taken him seriously to task. IV. THREE weeks and no nearer a place than on the day he had walked out of the Iron- clad offices! The situation was growing desperate, which added to Billy’s mental turmoil not a little. In a few days the rent would be due, and likewise the slender bank roll would be exhausted! Four firms had been visited that morning and no hope had been held out. Billy moved languidly along Fourth Avenue, hat- ing everybody who passed him. Why, these people had jobs! They were working and receiving a weekly envelope. What dumb-bells some of them looked! ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. As if he were not a better man than any of them! Yet—here he was, broke, jobless, and facing he did not know what! A sweet situation! In this frame of mind he found himself scowling up at the entrance of the Iron- clad Hardware Company. Not only that but, as he looked, down the steps came Mr Thomas J. Bitt! Thomas J. Bitt, looking more forbidding than ever! Then something snapped! If all the rages in which Billy Carter had ever in- dulged could have been rolled together into one monster blast of hatred, this was it! That last interview, the weeks of heart- breaking effort, the silent endurance of Una and now—the hateful presence of Thomas J. Bill! All reared themselves into the materials for an offensive the like of which Hindenburg never dreamed! There was no rime or reason in what Billy did, but he was only the tool of the madness that gripped his soul. He sprang at Thomas J. Bitt like a wounded tiger! Smash! Billy’s right plumped into the other’s jaw! The man had seen it com- ing! No words were necessary, and none were spoken. Bitt was a bigger man, but his sedentary life had not served to keep him in trim. Yet he had a considerable brute strength and was not the person to take it ‘‘ lying down.” He recovered instantly from the impact of Billy’s first blow and countered with a vicious swing to the young man’s jaw. Billy ducked and himself delivered a swing that went wild. Then they closed upon each other, and all rules went by the board. Heedless of the mighty crowd that as- sembled in a twinkling, they pummeled and kicked and gouged. Bitt landed heavily on Billy’s right eye, and the latter repeatedly drew blood from his opponent’s battered - mouth. But the struggle weakened the heavier man so that just as the police broke through the delighted crowd, a smashing uppercut from Billy’s right laid Bitt out cold! He lay where he had fallen and his conqueror ~ swung around to find himself gripped by the hands of two bluecoats who, in spite of COL MUCE JOOKS (e(6)