Argosy All-Story Weekly — "The Purple Limited" — page 202: what you’re looking at

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

768 with a pleasure and a gratitude I come to this fiesta to-night. To see you all feasting brings joy to, my big heart.” Murmurs df incredulity hummed from the assembled group, and Manuel felt a strange, sinking sensation, totally at variance with the elation that had ungyed him a few mo- ments ago. From the bent head of the oldshunch- back a low cackle of mirth issued. ‘‘ Before we start to dance, however ”—he paused, and deep breath, indrawn through many lips, sounded through the room as the lis- teners braced themselves for the finishing of his remarks—“ a little matter of busi- ness,’ Pedr§ continued, “ the business be- fore the pleasure always, no? Well, friends, you know I am always as prompt in my collections as in my payments.”’ “ A hundred times more prompt,” cried one of the guests a little braver than the rest. Pedro frowned him into silence with an ugly leok, and went on: “ Manuel, here, child of my heart, has been very good to me. Most liberal, I should say. Of all my customers he is the very best. .To be sure, he has a special night delivery; but what of that when I check every item, and for this credit I have deposited with me in gold by his father all that I could ask. It has been a beautiful business transaction to me, and now—” U COMPEN U ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. Manuel, in his nervousness, had inad- vertantly touched the starting switch of the phonograph, and from its horn issued a muffled, confused sound. Pedro stepped: for- ward, and from the throat of the tin horn drew a written scroll of paper. It unfolded as he pulled it out. “Your witch had an impedient in her throat,’’*he said in explanation. “I stuffed it there assthe cart passed me this after- noon.” He handed the long’ roll ‘of paper, covered with figures, to the surprised Man- uel. The unrestrained music of the phono- . graph echoed through the reom. “Your bill, my son,” continued the old man. “ The last crackers and cheese, and that rum,”’ he pointed to the six empty bot- tles on the floor, ‘“‘ just makes it total to two hundred and ninety-nine pesos and three pesetas—at retail prices,” he added after a little pause. ,“ I am a just-man; hence here is thé odd peseta left of your inheritance,” he forced the little silver coin into Manuel’s. hand, and turned to leave. “A good cus- tomer,” he flung back over his shoulder, ‘“ yes, a very good customer—a trifle tricky, perhaps—but then, what matters that when. you pay so promptly!” _ He raised his hands, and uplifted his eyes as though in benediction, ag he passed out of the front door. 1. U SATION BY GRACE G. BOSTWICK JF life had been an easy thing, ™” Then I had never learned to sing; If love had jeweled all my ways - I scarce had known these golden days; If grief had never touched my brow; I ne’er had been so blesséd now. But life was hard and so I sang; With wistful hope each measure rang; - The lonely days so cruel to bear, Taught me my brother’s load to share; And sorrow tried me but to, prove How sweet the hard-learned lesson—loye! IZA nn) (C 6)(0)©) (C(O) KS 5(CO in