Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 105: what you’re looking at

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

NOW WE’RE RICH. Past three Laura stifled an unexpected, spasmodic little giggle and went to sleep herself. ——— Ss CHAPTER XIII, RAMIFICATIONS, PART from the shame of the thing itself, Laura had cause to regret her little slip. There was a certain matter she wished to offer, in the most tactful and diplomatic way, for Henry’s attention. She had thought to bring it up that eve- ning—but it had turned into rather an unpropitious evening for such matters. All the way out to the Country Club Laura had been framing pretty little thoughts and shaping to fit them divers pretty little phrases, each entirely dis- arming and innocuous at first hearing; each, as one might discover on careful analysis, rather filled with significance, Arrived at the club, Laura had been clear on her proposed plan of approach and rather proud of her job; and then she must needs be led astray by a silver cocktail shaker! However, there was time. Two evenings after her downfall, the air cleared with the returning Henry’s humorous: “ Hello, honey! Sober to-night? That’s good.” He remained in consistently good humor after dinner, too; somebody’s check for two hundred and seventy odd dol- lars had arrived in the office mail, re- minding Henry, as he said, that he was still in business. “Oh, Harry,” Laura murmured, when Brantree had gone upstairs to his uneasy bed. “Umum?” “T think I’d like to give a party.” Henry dropped his paper. “What kind of a party?” “Tt would have to be a little one, wouldn’t it?” “You bet it would, around these diggings just now!” Morrow said firmly. “ A sort of vest pocket party, 245 with ice water for refreshments. What are we paying for ice now, by the way?” “T—I don’t know. Why?” “Saw a wagon down by the station when I came home to-night, with a sign on it: ‘Fifty Cents per Hundred Pounds.’ Struck me that was pretty cheap. I jotted down the telephone number ; it’s up in my wallet.” Laura looked wistful. “It wouldn’t really have to be as simple as all that?” “No?” There was something in her tone that caused Henry to prick up his ears. “See here, my child,” he said mildly, “you’re not thinking of having Couveau furnish a supper and send up a crowd of Greek waiters to serve it, are your” “ Good gracious, no!’ Laura cried. “ Because it seems to me you’ve been getting some pretty high-hat ideas since we moved in here and—” “Oh, dear no! We'll get some ice cream from Couveau, of course; he has the prettiest little new molds, too. All the rest of it Ina and I can attend to—it will really amount to little or nothing,” said Laura, with a shrug which seemed to indicate, at the very most, a small tin of potted ham for sandwiches and whatever odds and ends happened to be in the icebox on the night of the affair. Henry rubbed his chin. “That’s my idea of a party, just about now,” he reflected. “ Little or nothing—preferably nothing. When do you want to do all this?” “T thought perhaps Thursday night. You’ve nothing on then?” “T’ve nothing on any night; you ought to know that. Except week after next, of course; I want to go down to the lodge for that shindig.” “ Thursday, then,” said Laura. “I’m sure that will be all right. I mean, it isn’t as if I had to get out invitations eRe in advance for a little party like this.” “'No—no. Only one thing, Laura.” (e) DOOKS mie (C@)