Argosy All-Story Weekly, July 7, 1928 — page 82: what you’re looking at

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

222 “ T will see you to your planes,” said Sir Augustus like a good host. And during this absorbing confer- ence Dick Boswell leaned on the piano and drank in the beauty of Vesta with his eyes, while his ears drank in the delicious harmonies of Debussy, the thrilling rhapsodies of Liszt, and the voluptuous rhythms of Rimsky Korsa- koff. After all he would have learned noth- ing beyond what his mysterious chief already surmised, and he might have jeopardized his prospects of being of especial value to his service if he had been rash enough to prowl about and listen at doors. These international bandits had only mentioned, regarding the invasion, what every American chief of staff had told his government for a quarter of a century: that the vitals of America were worn on the outside of her, un- guarded and impossible adequately to guard. And American financiers had already discovered there was-a conspir- acy among the wealthy men of Europe to make America settle all their bills and set them up in business again. The breaking up of one of the bridge tables drew the players to the piano and Vesta swung about upon the piano stool to suggest dancing. A foot- man opened a wall panel and revealed a powerful radio set upon which he picked up the Hotel Savoy grill in Lon- don where a Hungarian band was play- ing the latest dance steps—American jazz dances had ‘gone into oblivion along with the polka, the quadrille, and the two-step. Dick wished to dance with his host- ess, but she was always in the arms of some one else, and at twelve thirty the guests began to retire. He knew that she had deliberately avoided dancing with him, but there was nothing he could do about it. At least she had played for him alone for more than an hour. He found the big bed in the Walnut room comfortable enough. He slept the ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. more soundly because he was ignorant of the importance of the conference which had taken place that night in Winstut Abbey. He wakened early and descended to find the breakfast room empty. waiter was on hand to serve him from the numerous covered dishes on the buffet, and he lingered long at break- fast hoping that Vesta might come up- on him. Instead, as he was finishing, the Drooms came in together. He made his excuses and left them. It was a beautiful morning and the outdoors called him. He wandered through the gardens and eventually found himself upon the flying field. A small two-seater was tuning up and the aviator touched his cap respectfully as Dick approached. “Going to make a flight?’ he asked the man in livery. “Sir Augustus is going up to Lon- don in an hour, sir,” said the aviator. * He often runs up for a few hours on Fridays and Saturdays, though the house is full of guests. _He is always back for dinner.” “That’s a neat little job,” Dick ad- mired. “ She looks fast.” “She is, sir, I can get two hundred miles if I push her. You’re American, if [ may be so bold.” “ Correct.” “A flying man yourself, sir?” “T have done quite a littl. My father builds airplanes in Detroit.” The chauffeur looked interested. “TI know the Boswell machines very well, sir. ‘They are more for comfort than for speed.” “Yes. Comfort and safety. you been in America?” “Yes, sir. I tested mail carriers for a couple of years. I was born in this county and my father died and left me a bit of property, so I came home.” “A lot of flying from this field,” said Dick, eying the ground expertly. “IT should say that many of thé guests come here by plane.” Have “ Aye, sir, especially the foreign gen- (€(0) .OO S A- AMIE (E@)