Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 110: what you’re looking at

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

250 whenever he tried to talk sense into her, was headed for trouble just as surely as he was walking along here with a bundle of whisky bottles! Where was it all to end? Henry laughed bitterly indeed as he turned up the flagged path to his home. He might be stupid and he might be old- fashioned, but he had seen enough of life to make a very fine guess at that answer, Very shortly, indeed, unless brains and gold together began to rain into his home, something was going to give way with a loud, conclusive bang! Afterward, perhaps, they’d pick up the pieces and start over again. But he wished to Heaven he’d paid that in- crease in rent and let it go at that! “You'll have to go light on the butcher and the grocer for a couple of weeks, Laura,” he said. “ There’s your twenty-one dollars’ worth of booze!’ “Good gracious! Is—is that what three bottles cost?” Laura cried. Aha! <A shred of sense left, eh? At least, she was shocked. “That’s what it cost!” Henry said impressively. “ And [ think—” “ Well, put it in the sideboard, dear, before anything happens to it,” Laura smiled. ‘“‘ Where are you going, Jim- my?” “T think I'll go up and pack,” Bran- tree sighed. “Well, but you’re not—” “You're not going anywhere, Jim!” Henry protested energetically, “ Blast it! Don’t you see you can’t? Thaven’t —well, you haven’t the price to get you anywhere, I mean. And—here, Jim! Til tell you what! To-morrow morn- ing, first thing, ’Il go around and see Wickett & Sobel and tell them all about your case. Wickett’s a shrewd devil and he packs a terrible wallop, Jim. He'll probably—” “He can’t do anything for me,” Brantree interrupted with his mirthless laugh, ‘‘ You don’t understand, either of you. It’s just that I want to get my things together, I don’t know, but ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. I imagine they don’t give you long to pack when they come for you!” Slowly he mounted the stairs, Laura glanced at her husband. “ Harry, I do think—” “Think what?” “That you might get him out of it. Mr. Prindle isn’t coming back, you know.” ‘“ He won't let me!” “Tt could all be settled before he knew anything about it!’ Henry writhed and nodded. “That’s true. So it could. But— well, listen, Laura. If it does come to a crisis, l’ll—er—do something about it. I don’t believe it will.” “When you know perfectly well—” Laura began in utter exasperation. “Yes, honey, I know. I’m dumb. But I have—I don’t know, a sort of feeling. Seems to me they’d have ar- rested him before this if they were go- ing to. But, as I say, if they actually "5 ated He hated to see Laura’s nostrils di- late like that. It was unflattering when done that way. He opened his paper, started at it, laid it on his knees, sighed : | “Well, anyway, kid, it’s good to be home here with you. There’s nothing more to happen to-night.” “Has something happened?” “Not a thing!’ Henry said tartly. “Will Willie be home before daylight from this Henderson gathering?” ‘“T hope so.” “Where’s our young lady this eve- ning?” ‘““Margey? Gone to a—was it a din- ner dance?” “ How should I know? I’m not con- sulted about these things.” “Tt was a dinner dance. She thought she might be later than usual.” ** Before we’re done with this,” Hen- ry said cheerily, “ you’re going to be mighty sorry for letting that kid run around like that!’ Laura laid down her embroidery. “ Harry, please! If you twang that CORNICLOO© S (C@)