Argosy All-Story Weekly — "Sea Marauders" — page 123: what you’re looking at

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

“ Dicky, you get one idea into your head, don’t you? And then harp and pound on it until—well, it’s exhaust- ing, you know. There is nothing press- ing about this little matter of my—er —domestic unhappiness. I’ve said that before, a number of times.” “Well, my side of it is pressing!” “Yes? Well, mine isn’t,” Gwen smiled. “ So that’s that. I don’t even feel like discussing the matter this morning.” “And you mean to keep me here on the leash until you’re ready to use me; is that it?” “You can’t dress up an idea in very pretty words,” Mrs. Bragg sighed. “ Still, I must say that you can grasp one.” “All right!’ said this -revived Richard, with much decision. A new thought was taking shape in his abused head, you see —a daring, even a mad thought, but at the same time one rather better than the sicken- ing thought of giving up his cherished factory without even one more struggle! Mr. Melton, eyes narrowed, meditated swiftly; swiftly, too, he stepped to the door and closed it, while ‘Gwen watched rather wonderingly. “Gwen, you'll accept my solemn word of honor?” “Um — yes. If it doesn’t involve your leaving here and running back to your Anne, Dicky.” “Well, it doesn’t. Listen! I give you my solemn word of honor, Gwen, to help you in whatever way you say, short of murder, whenever you say, 1f—” “Aha! Here comes the catch Mrs. Bragg observed. “__If you'll help save my life to- day,” Richard concluded. ‘‘ Now listen some more!” And thereupon words "? poured frantically from his hurried lips—words which caused Mrs. Bragg to lean forward and smile incredulous- ly at first and later to smile delighted appreciation. iE may be said in brief that, without j | - EVERY MINUTE COUNTS. dwelling at all upon the architectural profits of recent years or touching the future’s roseate possibilities, Richard told Mrs. Bragg all that she needed to know. “It’s priceless!” that lady comment- ed. “Only what’s the answer? Or can there be any answer to a thing like this?” “Maybe. Gwen, you know Bill Reeves, of course?” “You introduced him, three years ago—and then chased him away be- a I could get more than a glance at im.” “Does Bragg know him? ever seen Bill?” “No, of course not. But you can’t possibly be thinking of—why, Dicky?’ Gwen gasped. Even then Mr. Melton was at the telephone and calling for the private wire of the Interurban Employment Bureau’s head. “Bill? Yes, this is Dick!” clicked into the instrument. “Say, Bill, is your door closed —and the window, p? Has he too? I can’t yell what I’m going to say, and I don’t want you to miss a_ word. Ready? All right, then!” He talked further, telling much the same tale that Gwen had heard, paus- ing at last for sheer lack of breath. “Well, for the love of Pete!” Bill commented sympathetically. “ That’s tough luck, isn’t it?” “The old ship hasn’t surrendered yet,” Richard stated grimly. “ Bill, you wash your face and comb your hair and get up here quick! Youw’re going to be Richard Melton for to- day!” “Tm—l’m going to be what?” Mr. Reeves gasped. “I didn’t catch what you said, Dick.” “You be here at one o'clock! Call up this house as soon as [ ring off and tell him you'll be here! And all you have to do after that is to look wise and eat a good meal, and when he gets the contracts out, sign ’em!”’ the des- perate Richard pursued. | TA a? “ hee oe. Re ara ? tah fee 4 su ¥ a ves, LY wy . x é ea M4 f €-.9 : a vt — aan Pet ome inf a 7 ~ nd aes ae Aad ln oh ¥ BX hae Ny (i wh Wite, Tae.