Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 14, 1928 — page 130: what you’re looking at

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

268 On Thursday the climax broke with suddenness and fury. That day they had reéstablished somewhat their old-time feelings. Margy had not been heard from, and her memory had been subdued by the events of full days. They were returning to quarters, arm in arm, after the three o’clock class. When they reached the door of their room, they paused for an instant. There, on Jack’s table, which was near- er the door, two yellow envelopes stared up at them. Telegrams! From her! Impatiently they both rushed for- ward. Each picked up an envelope and tore it open. Jack read: Be delighted to attend the hop with you Saturday. See you at the hotel in time for dinner. Marey. Bill read: Be delighted to attend the hop with you Saturday. See you at the hotel in time for dinner. Marcy. Bill was the first to discover the hor- rible error. He looked at the telegram address, and saw Caper JacK DELANY, Co. A, West Point, N. Y. “T believe you have the wrong tele- gram,” he said icily to Jack, who was, at that moment, in the seventh heaven. For an instant Jack looked bewil- dered. ‘Then he stared at the address typed on his telegram. It was for Bill! They exchanged telegrams, each not knowing what to expect. Each feared that Margy had accepted the other fel- low’s invitation, and refused his own. In silence they read their own tele- eras. They read and reread. The silence was prolonged. Why, the telegrams were identically the same! She had promised each that she would come up to West Point this coming Saturday. ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. But she couldn’t go to the hop with both of them! It had to be one or the other. Bill was the first to recover his equi- librium. “Well,” he snapped at Jack, “ what are you going to do about it?” ““*_do about it?” repeated Jack vacantly, amazed at the nasty tone in which Bill had spoken. ‘‘ I—I dunno. Drag her, I suppose. ~ She says here that she will meet me at dinner Satur- day night.” ‘“That’s what she says in my tele- gram, too. Didn’t you read it? She’s going to the hop with me. There must be a mistake somewhere, but any fool would know that I am the one she means. I danced with her first.” Jack was extremely good-natured— up to a certain point. Then his red hair blew the safety valve to pieces. “Now, listen here, Bill. I know that Margy intends to come up here with me. She told me so out on the balcony last Saturday night. And—lI give you fair warning—if she comes up, she'll be with me.” “Like hell she will! I don’t want to have any trouble with you, Delany. We've been roommates too long for that. But you keep away from Margy Gilmore this Saturday. If you don’t, I won’t be responsible for conse- quences.” That was too much red flag in front of Jack’s nose. “Bill Fenton, I can lick you every day of every week you're born. So don’t try any of that stuff.” Bill sneered. ‘You haven’t shown it over in the ym.” “Well, if that’s the way you feel about it, lil give you a chance to back up your statements, and decide the question of Margy at the same time. ‘As you are aware, I suppose, there is going to be a boxing meet in the gym this Saturday. It’s going to be an open meet, and any pair who wishes to put on a bout can do so. (E(0) DOOKS mile (E)