Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 161: what you’re looking at

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

HER GREEK GOD. coin. And covering this classic head were blond curls—not kinks that defied comb or glostora, but loose wavelets that lay in well groomed order—that glistened golden in the sunlight. Conscious of his lowly rearing and its attending defects in education, Archie was always on the alert, eager to adapt himself to his surroundings. He strained his ears and sprained his tongue in an effort to ac- quire the accent and grammar of culture. In his manner to his employer and his employer’s family there was a studied po- liteness, but never servility. To his em- ployer’s servants he offered condescending cordiality—he was of them—but above them—very much above them, and they must know it. To Archie, driving a car became a pro- fession. He strove unceasingly to make his position of family chauffeur one of dignity and responsibility and to eliminate every- thing that might suggest menial service. Incongruities resulting from adaptations of adopted breeding often amused Mr. Turnbull, but at the same time it pleased him that Archie manifested a desire for the higher amenities of life. It had its ad- vantages—it made the Turnbull chauffeur a bit different from those of his associates. Had it not been for the devotion he had for his wife and daughter, Mr. Turnbull might have interested himself in Archie’s advancement to the extent of financing a garage for him, or starting him in the auto- mobile business perhaps. But to Mrs. Turnbull and Ellin, Archie was the last word in chauffeur smartness. He was as indispensable to their appearance in public as their costly furs and imported bonnets— he became a mark of distinction—a Rolls- Royce coat of arms, as it were. Now, after leaving Ellin Turnbull, Archie realized that he was approaching a crisis in his career. ‘So it would be well,” he thought, “ to spruce up a bit before calling for Miss Ellin.” It would take but one half hour at the most to dash over to his flat on Third Ave- nue. His flat on Third Avenue—ugh! His ambitious being recoiled, his soul rebelled when he thought of what awaited him on oll Third Avenue. Rosie, a pretty, pert ribbon counter girl when he had married her two years before, was now an untidy, nagging tenement wife. As he opened the door there arose within him a deep-rooted antagonism—a genuine hatred for his wife and his home. The ob- noxious incense of corned beef and cabbage had permeated every corner, curtain and cretonne hanging of the inartistic, time pay- ment furnished four room flat. Rosie was sitting near one of the dust covered windows counting pennies and nickles that jingled Jonesomelike in her dirty apron. ‘“‘ Hello,” began Archie in chilled saluta- tion. ‘‘Huh— What’re you doin’ home at this hour—lost yer job?” was Rosie’s welcome for her spouse. ““ Much you’d care if I did!” retorted Archie with rising temperature. “‘ Maybe if you did, you’d get a job like a real man and cut out this playin’ dude business!”? snapped Rosie. Then: “ Got any money?” “Nope!” replied Archie, taking out a fresh collar from the top drawer of the dust covered chiffonier near the other dust covered window. ‘“* Been buying some new lugs, ain’t you?” said Rosie spitefully, as she looked with scorn at his highly shined, new leather boots. ‘‘ Pity you wouldn’t ’a’ remembered it was the insurance man’s day to collect! I’m fifty cents short—you ain’t even got fifty cents?” ‘““ Nope!” answered Archie absent-mind- edly, struggling with his collar. “You'd better drive with extra care, then —hbeings yer life insurance’s runnin’ out to- day!” was Rosie’s wifely thrust. ‘‘ Otherwise I could drive to the devil, and the sooner the better, so long as you’d get my insurance money,” was Archie’s return husbandesque dig. Then as best he could he looked at and admired himself in the small fly-specked mirror above the chif- fonier. “Oh, I guess I could get along the same as I did before I got married to you,” hit back the self-reliant Rosie. ‘‘ Gee!” she went on vehemently. ‘I had some money in them days—more’n I’ve ever had since!” CoOmicloolk @) S (C@)