Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 6, 1923 — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

SO THIS IS hurt and surprised that he was not more demonstrative. She was a proud little thing; it would kill her—he felt—if she thought she had made a mistake as to his feelings toward her. But—what could he do? That sinister picture still dominated his mind; Letty, brought to his home city, her spotless purity subjected to the slime of his sordid precinct. He wanted to take her into his arms so badly that he had to hold on to the grass, and clench his teeth; had she been any other girl, he would have done so and let things fall out as they might! One night, with the full moon flooding the back vard and just enough breeze to serve as a gentle fan, Ma Tucker waddled out of her kitchen door, wiping her hands on her apron. She looked out over the tops of her specs toward the locust tree. ‘ There’s a friend o’ yourn here from the city, Joe,” she said. The hair stirred on the boy’s_ neck. “Tito is it?” he gasped. “ Gentleman name of Reedy. I told him to come right through to the back yard.” She stepped aside, and Iron Reedy stood in the moonlight, a tweed cap in his hand. What a swell looker he was, the Slapper thought. Thin, straight, with piercing eyes and iron gray hair and mustache, he looked like a crack cavalry officer. ‘ Surprised to see me, Slapper?” He spoke in a quiet, well modulated voice, like an actor or banker or somebody important. ‘‘ Back home, that is what we call Joe,” he added to Mrs. Tucker. He walked across the yard, sniffing at the scent of the flowers brought out by the eve- ning dew. The boy introduced him. “Meet Letty—Miss Dean,” he said. “ \fr.—er—William Reedy.” “ Delighted,” said Reedy, taking the girl’s friendly hand in his, and seating himself in the little low rocker by their side. “ Mind if I smoke, Miss Dean?” — “Tf I did, I wouldn’t be able to stand Joe,” she laughed. Reedy produced a black morocco case with a heavy gold monogram, and bit the end off a long Havana. He smoked a special brand, smuggled for him. WEDLOCK! 845 “T needed a little change, and as I had no place particularly in mind, thought I’d run up and see you, my boy. If the little lady approves, how about a little spin in my car?” Letty clapped her hands. She had never had many automobile rides. And when, rounding the house, her eyes fell upon the glittering sport roadster with its silver- plated batterv of dials and gages and regis- ters and clock and card cases and every- thing, she gurgled happily. Despite the heavy going, the powerful engine bore them along at a speed which seemed breathless to her. When they re- turned, an hour later, they had covered twenty miles up and down the coast. ‘“T want a reward,” Reedy told her as he ceremoniously helped her to alight. “TI always expect pay! I’m starving, and I in- tend to get you to wheedle Mrs. Tucker into putting me up for a night or two while I visit my young friend here.” The matter was not difficult to arrange; Ma Tucker being obviously impressed by the magnificence of Joe’s stylish friend. The three sat down to beans and brown bread, a setting of boiled eggs, peach pie, cottage cheese, a pitcher of creamy milk, several kinds of preserves. They talked and ate, and Reedy acted as if he were thoroughly at home. When he admitted that he was tired after a long run, he was shown to his chamber, and for the first time in many years was lulled to sleep by crickets and whippoorwills. The Slapper did not so readily drop into slumber. He wondered what Reedy— whom as a local despot he had never more than spoken to—could be doing up here? He was never known to leave the city, save for a brief run to some Jersey resort, or something like that. His mission must con- cern the Slapper; what could he want? It was late when he fell asleep, and his dreams were troubled. Whatever Reedy’s mission, he was in no hurry to announce it. He prowled about the village afoot, talked with the natives much more easily than the Slapper had been able to do, bought one of the general store cigars and smoked it without batting an eye while swapping yarns with the pro- COMmiclooe (©