Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 28, 1928 — page 98: what you’re looking at

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

528 She went to the bookcase and took from it a large volume, then sat down on the settee. “Are you willing to take a chance on an idea of mine?” she asked. “Why, I guess so,’ he answered, surprised. ‘‘ What is it?” “Come over here and I'll show you,” she answered, making room for him at her side. Her eyes were glowing with excite- ment, and he had never seen her so en- thused over anything. Obediently he took the place she in- dicated and sat down. She opened the book, and he saw that it was filled with line drawings and photographs of faces of all shapes and descriptions, varied occasionally with pictures of individual features and hands. Rapidly she turned the pages until she came to the picture for which she was searching. “Ts your friend Davis something like that?” she asked. Rodney stared at the picture she in- dicated. ““T should say so!” he exclaimed. “Tt might almost be a photograph of him.” “Read what it has to say.” Rodney read, and a look of surprise came over his face. “Well, I'll be darned!’ he «said. “ What chumps we’ve been! Margaret, do you mind if I take this book with me and study it for awhile?” “OF course: ridt;” “ Keep it as long as you need it. through with it.” “] think you’ve shown me my one chance to make good,” he said grate- fully. “If I get that order I'll owe it all to you.” As he looked at her his heart was in his eyes, but once again she was the calm young person he had feared for so long, and the words he would have uttered stuck in his throat. “T hope it helps you,’ she said quietly. “I have utter faith in that she assented. V’m ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. book and have profited by it in a num- ber of ways.” Abruptly she got up and went to the piano. In a moment she was running through a repertoire of the latest popu- lar music; but for once Rodney had no ears for it. Instead, he was absorbed in a study of the numerous cuts contained in the book. When he left, half an hour later, he carried the book with him. IV. Ir was Tuesday night and Rodney was working late. He was at his desk at the office. In front of him perched a typewriter, at which he was hammer- ing busily, while at its side rested a pile of typed papers. Back of the machine was a heap of literature, comprising all the facts and figures relative to the Consolidated Skipple. From time to time Rodney referred to these pamphlets, then re- sumed his typing, while the pile of fin- ished pages steadily bulked higher. At ten o'clock the door opened and Mr. Gordon entered. “Evening, Witt,” he said. “ What are you doing?” Rodney stretched before answering, then replied: “Just working on a little idea, Mr. Gordon.” ; “Have you seen Davis?” * Not ‘yet.” “Well, remember what I said— Thursday’s the dead line. You'd do better to be working on /im instead of fooling with that stuff.” He passed into his private office. Rodney smiled quizzically and resumed his typing. The following afternoon at one thir- ty Rodney picked up his typewritten pages, now bound together with sta- ples and covered with a neat, blue manuscript cover, and started to leave the office. On second thought he re- turned to his desk and picked up the telephone. | 6A NOOKS COWMUC (C@