Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 5, 1928 — page 102: what you’re looking at

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

668 “but the fact is that I’m absolutely broke right now.” It was awkward, it was desperate, it -was funny. The girl stiffened slightly, and bit her lip—and then smiled. He did not know it, but the very clumsiness of his speech, coupled with the blush that spread over his face was what saved the day. “Thank you,” she replied. ‘“ And inasmuch as I have only thirty cents, which [I will need for car fare, I guess we will not eat this noon.” Walt’s pulse increased. She was white! She was overlooking the uncon- ventionality of the thing and assum- ing that he wasn’t the kind to misin- terpret the fact; and at the same time she was crediting him with enough sense to see that she wasn’t a flirt. “Tll tell you my tale of woe,” he went on, “ provided you care to hear it. I promise not to beg for any part of your thirty cents.” “Td like to hear it very much in- deed. You aren’t by any chance a—a prince in disguise?” Walt smiled and began at the very beginning. He introduced himself, told of his business in Bridge Point, of his decision to take a bit of a vacation in Chicago, of E.d Agar, and Ed’s advice, and everything that followed, ending up with an explanation of his reluc- tance to let his friends back home know what had befallen him. She made a fine, appreciative lis- tener. “Ves,” she said thoughtfully when he had finished, ‘“ the papers certainly would print your story if they could get hold of it. And your picture, too. Are you sure that your home town friends would become such—such nui- sances ?” ‘Positive,’ he stated emphatically. “T’d never have a peaceful day again. If I wasn’t sure of what they’d do, I wouldn’t be sitting here in this imita- tion of a suit. Which,” he added, “I am mighty glad to be doing.” She didn’t know what to make of ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. that last statement, plainly, and then their eyes met—held, and in the en- suing five seconds she found the an- swer, and knew that he knew she had found it. And just for the barest fraction of a fraction of an instant be- fore she turned her head and lifted her chin Walt glimpsed something in the depths of her brown eyes that thrilled him, and he knew that she knew he had seen that something. He had sense enough to remain quiet, to wait until her chin had dropped imperceptibly, and then to say, a bit plaintively: “I wish I was the hero in a story book.” She did not turn, but her lips were pressed together to repress a smile. Then the crowd returned, and the auction was resumed. The girl an- swered Walt pleasantly enough when, occasionally, he spoke to her, but he could see that she was occupied with her thoughts. She no longer sat so erectly, turning her head here and there quickly to catch everything that occurred, as she had in the morning. It was perhaps two o’clock when she told him that she must go, and pre- pared to leave her seat. He was about to ask her whether she wouldn’t let him have her address, but she shook her head before he could say a word, ap- parently guessing what he had in mind. “ But—you'll be here to-morrow?” he inquired anxiously as she stood up. “Perhaps. I do not know.” She put out her hand with a frank, boyish smile. “I wish you luck, Mr. Wil- kinson—and I hope you find a way out of your fix.” And then she was gone. IT. For the next two hours Walt sat there, oblivious to everything. Not until the man on the platform an- nounced that the auction was over for the day, and would be continued the following morning, did he recall his surroundings. (eo) DOOKS mnie