Argosy All-Story Weekly, May 17, 1924 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

Wise 172 ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, nel,” he announced, as he laid all the flow- ers upon the porch. “ That was a bright little boy, and I certainly regret the tragedy which ended his life. I hope you will ac- cept these flowers with the expression of my sympathy and regret.” Roone looked him over with the expres- sionless face of a professional poker player. Here was the son of his lifelong enemy, ad- vancing up the walk, draped with flowers and looking like an idiot. It was like the son of old Verdell to be guilty of some im- becility like that. ‘“ What the devil are you talking about?” Roone asked. “T refer to Tucker. I am sorry to hear of his death. I brought these flowers with my regrets,” was Manse’s answer. Roone gazed at him with utter incom- prehension of his meaning. “What did you say these flowers were for?” Roone asked. “I don’t understand.” Manse thought a- moment and began again: “{ just heard of the tragic result of the explosion. Sorry to know that the little hoy is dead. I am sure you will miss him very much. everybody liked him.” It occurred to Roone that they were not getting anywhere. His next question was exactly the same as his first: “ What the devil are you talking about?” Manse stood before him confused by his dullness of comprehension. Surely the old foozle ought to understand when floral of- ferings were brought to a house where death had occurred. The young man did not know how to say any more than he had said. So there he stood, in his embarrass- ment looking more and more like Roone in his heart thought he was, a sublimated idiot. “You are old Verdell’s son, are you not?” ‘Roone asked finally. “ Yes, sir.” “What are you doing here?” Roone snapped. “T brought these flowers,” Manse said, with a gesture toward the floral offerings. “Who ordered these flowers?” Roone inquired. “Nobody. I just brought them,” Manse replied with some embarrassment. -_ He was a bright boy, and “Take them back with you when you go,” Roone replied in a tone of finality. “TI don’t want them.” Promptly Manse stooped and gathered up his flowers. From the corner of his eye he could see a procession of women enter- ing the front gate, all of them bearing floral offerings. He picked up his and hurried around the house and met the advancing procession. “Colonel Roone is on the side porch, ladies,’ he said. “If you have no objec- tions, please take these flowers I have brought and.add them to yours. Tell Colo- nel Roone that I regret the unfortunate event that has happened in his. family.” He stood in the middle of the yard and watched the women go around the side of the house. He listened and heard a num- ber of expressions which indicated that all minds were in confusion and a mistake had happened somewhere. When the confu- sion of talk became general, and everybody seemed to be trying to talk at once, an au- tomobile rolled into the yard and stopped at tne Roone front door. The machine was driven by a negro chauffeur, and Tuck was sitting beside him, his face bound up with bandages. But he was very much alive. The women, hear- ing the automobile, came around the side of the house still bearing their floral offer- ings. They informed Roone of the rumor of the street that Tucker was dead, the first that the Roone family had heard of the tragedy. While the crowd was gathered around the machine, and everybody was trying to ex- plain te everybody else, Buckety had the misfortune to come slinking from around the house like a stray black cat. Instantly they pounced upon him and dragged him to the automobile and stood him in front of Colonel Roone. The boy was frightened. “ Buckety, did you tell everybody that Tuck was dead?” Roone demanded. ‘“Yessuh!” Buckety said, showing the whites of his eyes. “ Didn’t you know that Tuck was not dead?” Roone thundered. “ Yessuh,” Buckety quavered. “Why did you tell that lie?” Roone bawled. CORNICLOOOKS (C@