Argosy All-Story Weekly, Vol. 146 No. 4 — page 88: what you’re looking at

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

“this Defoe, but I want tose if T hear it “ This girl wants me because she thinks aviators are heroes. She doesn't like me because I have blue eyes, an ear for jazz, a charming personality, an admiration for Stevenson, a fairly decent job, or anything like that. No. She likes me because I’m a Imagine being a hero before heroic three hundred and sixty-Sve days 2 year. Besides, I have an important— Well, if I can get her over thinking I’m a it’s all off.” You want to reveal to her your real self?” Royce asked sympathetically. “I desire to delude her into the belief that I am a coward and a braggart,” Bill said at last, with some repression. “ And you need help?” the pilot inquired, allowing a generous amount of incredulity to tinge his tone. “TI do,” retorted McClellan fiercely. “« And I’m liable to prove the first part right now by manhandling such an insignificant, rabbit-faced symptom of a neurasthenic kiwi as yourself!” “Which part?” Royce said with an ap- preciative grin. “ Throttle down, Bill. I was just probing to discover just how bad- ly off you think you are.” McClellan subsided, although his feet continued to harass small objects on the floor. “I shall be pleased to codperate with you for the lady’s sake—I think,” Royce re- sumed blandly. “Is the subject in ques- tion familiar with your war record and sub- eet aéronautical career?” eet made vague, explanatory mo- sikich hoe. hands while his face assumed a ‘ * Sh sa b.gpod listener,” he muttered able ability and thrilling explol The hue on Bill's face deer his. mouth, then shut it — . = " : tis Royce watched him cane studies a bug, but relented culicenty | 0 inquire Well, how are we going to show you up?” “Tl bring her out here to the field,” McClellan bust out eagerly, restoring his handkerchief with unnecessary violence. “You take us up in that four-seated Flam- ingo. We'll sit in the front cockpit; you alone in the back. Then start stunting; a few loops, nose dive, spin—anything you think ‘the old crate will stand. I'll be nor- mal enough until you cut loose the works. Then I'll become terrified—soream, shout, hang onto the sides, and beg you to stop stunting. You stop and come down. In- sult me as I scramble with quivering legs to the ground. Make it strong. You're safe. Then take the girl aside and tell her that although I was in the air service, I had to be grounded for cowardice. She'll never speak to me again.” “ Suppose she faints or something when the stunts start?” Royce objected. “ You never know how a girl is going to take that sont of thing.” “She’s been up and through it all, I know, ” Bill answered. “Tl take the matter under advisement,” Roy ce decided weightily. “You'll do more than that,” Bill Me Clellan declared confidently. “Ii bring her down Thursday. And Royce, watch your step! The lady is apt to mistake you — for a hero, too, after my demise in that c& pacity.” | “Tt wouldn’t be a mistake, a “ There was a conscience—a : toons e . oiled conscience—inside the v “rable of Royce Grainger. This t |