Argosy All-Story Weekly, August 9, 1924 — page 96: what you’re looking at

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

246 “Your dancing lessons begin here ani now,” I said. ‘“ Come on!” I held out my hands to him. He stood up smiling shyly, awkward and scared, and I showed him a simple step or two and put him through his paces. Just as we got interested Carlyle Manning dis- covered me. “This dance is mine,” he announced. “You'll excuse us, old man?” Dick didn’t protest, but before we left I whispered to him: ‘“‘ Come see me to-mor- row night. That lesson must go on!” He promised with a happy grin. _ Oh, yes, I saw I had a job on my hands with Dick Cryder, but that was what made him interesting. A normal girl doesn’t care a hang for one of these he hundred per centers. She wants some good raw ma- terial with imperfections in it, so’s she can make it over to suit her own ideas. I had made up my mind Dick Cryder was going to learn to dance and laugh and generally act like a human being. It was ghastly to think of his letting the accident of<his birth scare him out of having a good time once in a while. Why, a man that can’t laugh and play is only half human! And dancing would loosen him up! Carlyle Manning said as we danced: “Youre awfully big bearted, Corabel Al- len. Think of you wasting time teaching that flat tire how to dance!” “TIT was having a better time than he was!” “ As good a time as this?” I had to admit, “ Well, not any better,” because Manning was a wonderful dancer— there was no getting away from it. We seemed born to dance together. It was like floating on a cloud to music. Manning said presently: “Cryder’s a nice chap. Seems a shame he’s got that family background—” “ What background?” I asked. He looked confused. “Oh, I didn’t mean to say that!” “T guess you mean about his father being a crook?” ‘““Sh-h!” he hissed. “I had no idea you knew about it! I wouldn’t repeat it for the world!” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. “Tt’s nothing for Dick Cryder to be ashamed of! If I was him I’d tell the world—” “Tt wouldn’t,” Manning murmured. “The world might not be quite so broad- minded as you are. Besides, he has reason to be a little cautious. This heredity the- ory works out in funny ways, sometimes.” “Heredity theory!” I fairly snorted. ‘“ Heredity is a lot of apple sauce!” Il. Dick CRYDER was around at our flat for his first lesson next night, and he wore a new tie—an entirely new kind of tie for him. Always he had sported gray or brown neckwear that sort of apologized for being seen at all; but there wasn’t any apology about this tie. It was a kind of batik mix- ture and it had pep, power and personality plus. I almost had to laugh when I saw how quick the seeds of propaganda I planted had taken root. We kept the phonograph going: until I was afraid the neighbors would kick, and that boy went at the business of learning to dance just.as if it was a course in Pitman or calculus or the Einstein theory, or some- thing his future depended on. What’s more, he learned! I knew right off that he had the makings of a good dancer. You can tell! ‘“¢ Now what you want to do,” I told him, “ig play these public dance clubs like the Silver Slipper once a week or so and get practice. You can dance with instructors for a while until you get more confidence. You'll get on fast—” “ Can’t I dance with you sometimes?” he begged. ‘I mean, of course, after I’ve put in a couple of weeks getting the hang of it?” Well, of course he could! If Dick had been one of these young fellows they tell about in the advertise- ments for correspondence schools that are putting in their spare time studying to be an engineer or vice president of the works or something, he couldn’t have worked a bit harder than he studied to make a regular fellow of himself. I'll bet he went to a dance of some kind every night for the GOMIGIOO SS (C@) nn