Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 3, 1924 — page 63: what you’re looking at

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

A STRANGER IN TOWN. neve I have ever met quite such a mixed- up affair as this. I think I had better take it and mark it and keep it until the thing is settled. After that, you can do with it what you please.” ‘* Mark it?” Eddie repeated. ‘‘ You mean keep it as a sort of certified bit of evidence in. the case?” “* Certainly. We don’t know what unex- pected angle the affair will develop next. So far as the police and Marvin are con- cerned, being a genuine bill, it has no further interest; but—it might be well to be able to produce it as the identical bill that was given to you, provided you should be in any way drawn into the further course of the case.” Eddie nodded. Not only was she beau- tiful and quickly sympathetic—this little - girl lawyer of his—but she was wise. And she believed in safety first, of being pre- pared, if possible, for contingencies, in ad- vance. note and handed it to her. ‘ That sounds sensible,” he declared. ‘ I don’t see just what could come up but—I didn’t ever expect to get into the thing in the first place.” All at once he grinned. “I just ex- pected to go out this afternoon and see the town and do exactly as I pleased, and the only thing I’ve done according to my wishes since, is getting you to come here.” ‘“ And even that,”’ she told him smiling, as she tucked the bill out of sight in a fem- inine way of concealment, ‘* depends wholly on your getting mixed up in this mess.” Eddie actually stared. His grin broad- ened. ‘“ By Jove!” he said again. “ You know, Miss Elton, when I wanted an at- torney I insisted on selecting one myself, and I picked your name and demanded that they call you. I told them I could get the sort of lawyer I wanted, even if I was a stranger in town, and—” he looked straight into the violet eyes across the table, “IT was right.” The eves dropped. A faint pink stole into Miss Elton’s face. Neither spoke until - suddenly Eddie chuckled: ‘“ Marvin and Salles aren’t the only ones who would like to find Blumefeldt, I fancy. There’s Murg- son and his two pals. What did they get He picked up the hundred dollar 85a for their hundred thousand? Nothing—- not even a run for their money. Blumes- feldt did the running. Did you ever hear of such a—comedy of errors?” Miss Elton toyed with her food. ‘“ Comedy of errors is a good description,” she remarked. ‘‘ And, of course, there are elements of humor in the situation, if you view it right.” ‘ Elements?” said Eddie. ‘‘ The whole thing’s crazy in its action, though? of course, the real situation is serious enough. But look at it, Miss Elton. I come into town a perfect stranger, and—” ‘‘ Please—spare me—stranger,” she in- terrupted smiling. “It’s perfectly ridicu- lous, as a matter of fact, if you look at it that way. And now I think I had best be getting home.” Eddie called their waiter. “‘ But—there’s the matter of your trouble to be settled first.” ‘Oh, wait till the thing 7s finished,” Miss Elton said in a wholly unbusinesslike voice. ‘“A retainer then. Fifty dollars?” “Will be sufficient.” Portia’s tone was aimost frigid and Eddie wondered at it as he produced a folder, extracted the sum he had mentioned and passed it to her. “Thank you. I must repeat that your honesty of appearance, Mr. Harmon, is not belied by your deeds.” But her pique, whatever its origin, van- ished almost before the waiter had returned with Harmon’s change, and a feminine pirate was permitting him to repurchase his hat. And after that, she was just girl, Eddie thought, as they set out for the apartment where she and another young woman, alone in the world like herself as she confessed, held a tiny suite of rooms. Yes, she was just girl, and all her superiority of profes- sional training and station disappeared. She even gave him a half-humorous account of her personal struggles against the obstacles, of that prejudice which has long reared itself in legal circles against her sex—laugh- ing at some of the episodes she recounted, bridling again at others in a semi-tolerant: wrath. At the door of her apartment, she listened with a somewhat whimsical expression to comniiclooo! (©