Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 3, 1924 — page 144: what you’re looking at

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

934 express his feelings, plodded out into the driving snow, coatless. IIT. It not only snowed next morning, the snow was blowing in blinding clouds of hard, white dust. The air was bitter. Barney hesitated at eight thirty on the steps of his boarding house, staring over the gray, desolate, cold world. ‘“‘ What’s the use?” he cried. ‘“ If I don’t freeze to death before I get there I'll be thrown out for a bum, anyway. Some slicker in a trick fur coat will get that job, just because he looks like he didn’t need it! For a nickel I’d go around and get a job shoveling in coal.” Nobody was around to offer Barney a nickel. Nobody was around. It was that kind of a day. He thrust his hands deep into his trousers pockets, turned up his inadequate coat col- lar, hunched his shoulders and started out, head down into the blizzard. Black pessimism struggled along at his elbow and rode with him through the sub- way and dogged his slipping, uncertain steps through the business district down town, where the blizzard raged with doubled fury. Barney tried to reason the depression away. It’s a chance, he figured. A man had to grab at every chance that offered or cease to act like a man. Look what Steve Brodie did! He lifted his head to survey the street crossing and choose a way through crowd- ing vehicles. The blizzard wind tore the new tan hat from his head and tossed it under the wheels of a passing truck. When Barney reached the mangled felt it was quite useless as a hat. Bareheaded in that blast he threw the sodden handful in the gutter and dared Fate to do more to him. . “ There’s a chance yet,” he muttered and plowed on, with the snow freezing into the folds of his clothing. The corridor of the big office building smote him with a hot, steamy breath. Bar- ney kicked the caked snow from his shoes and plodded doggedly to an elevator, con- ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. scious that he was a mark of considerable attention. The large, handsome outer office of the president’s suite on the Germless Ice Com- pany’s entire floor held a long bench, and the bench was occupied to capacity by a number of prosperous, contented appearing men of varying ages, but unvarying appear- ance of prosperity and well being. They turned interested and amused glances on the hatless, coatless apparition. Barney hesi- tated a moment at the door. He was minded to flee. ‘« Steve Brodie did it!” he muttered faint- ly and stepped in to present his letter of appointment. There being no room on the Waiting bench he was obliged to stand in a corner, conscious of being an object of some amusement and trying angrily to stare down the starers. Barney chafed at his cold, numbed wrists, rubbed his chill, half frozen cheeks, snuffled and waited. The benchful of prosperous looking applicants for the job, some with fur coats, some with fur collared coats, the meanest decked out in checkerboard tweeds of exceeding thickness and style, stared at him and waited. A door to an inner office opened. <A short, thick-set man with exceedingly ruddy complexion and bushy, snow-white hair, glared at the company. ‘To a secretary he remarked briskly, ‘‘ That man first,” and pointed out Barney. ‘“‘ Bring your hat and coat, please,’”’ the secretary gabbled briskly. “ Mr. Watkins will let you out of the private entrance to his office.” **Got no hat and coat,” Barney an- nounced grimly. What?” Barney raised his voice angrily. “I said I’ve got no hat and coat. Don’t wear ’em. Don’t believe in wearing ’em. I’m no hot- house mollycoddle.” He put it loud and bluntly for the benefit of all. He glared at them, ready to fight at the first flicker of a grin. ‘Here, what’s that? What do vou say?” Watkins had turned back from his door- way. “{ said I didn’t wear a hat and coat,” Barney repeated belligerently. “If wear- COMMG DOO! (©