Argosy All-Story Weekly, April 18, 1925 — page 25: what you’re looking at

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

DINNER FOR CYNTHIA. ‘“ Not to-night,” Cynthia responded, and forlornily attempted a light and casual effect. ‘‘ Somebody wants to hire Billy at fifteen thousand dollars a year, Nora, and —and that’s more important than playing around, isn’t it?” ‘“ Well—yes, naturally, if it’s really so,” said her cousin. ‘‘ Only I wish you’d told me about it five minutes ago, before I— Well, it’s too darned bad, anyhow,’’ Nora concluded brusquely, and strode back to her easel, Cynthia returned to her window and stood there watching; and, down below, William Brander sped across the street, turned for an instant to wave gayly in her direction, and vanished around the corner. ‘Well, there—there goes my dinner!” Cynthia observed, with an attempt at whimsical gayety which ended in a little whimper. “ Eh?” Nora rasped, “ Ves; he won’t be back till after ten, and it ‘Il never occur to him then that perhaps I’d like to—’’ ‘Well, what if he doesn’t?” the artistic member rapped out, with most unusual tem- per. ‘‘ Don’t you ever think of anything but food, Cynthia? Is food your whole world and your god and everything else? You’re a perfect little glutton! You'd sell your soul for—”’ “Why, I’m nothing of the kind!” Cyn- thia cried in hot amazement. ‘ I’m not a glutton or a freak or a pig. I’m healthy and I’m hungry, and I’m not a darned bit ashamed of it! I’ve been so hungry for days I could have gnawed up the rugs, if we'd had any to spare.” “Yes, I—I know you have, kid,” Nora muttered much more mildly. “I’m going to try to borrow five dollars from Morse to-morrow, if I can make it sound like a joke. Looks like sin, but I guess there’s no help for it.” She considered Cynthia morosely. ‘‘ For about two certs I’d call up Uncle Dan and tell him about you and—” “ After all the nasty things he said to us when we first came down, about never being able to make our way, and being fools for leaving home—and_ probably figuring to fall back on him when we made 175 a botch of it? No, I’m starved pretty nearly to death, but I’m not as hungry as all that!” 6 “I know, Cyn. So far as I’m concerned, I’d let my bones rattle around inside my skin before I'd ever call on Uncle Dan for one thin dime; but you’re different. You’re younger and prettier and softer, honey; and he’s rich, and he doesn’t live three miles from here. Cussed and all as he is, he wouldn’t see one of the family actually expire for want of a sandwich or two and—”’ More than this Nora did not say just then. With a pronounced start she ceased speaking and gazed toward the outer door; and Cynthia also started and also gazed, for on the far side of the portal some one had knocked sharply. There was nothing soft or friendly about this knock; it was just the sort of loud and peremp- tory rapping that might have been expected from the knuckles of a person arriving on unpleasant business. CHAPTER IV. THE BAIT. ORA was dark. When, on rare occa- sions, she paled, it was to a very unpleasant sallow tint. Cynthia, lighter and rosier, had a way of turning white which was almost ghastly in effect. Just now, as she ran to Nora’s side on fhe lightest of tiptoes, the chalky hue was upon her cheek, while Nora herself was a rather alarming yellow. ‘“That’s Smithers!’ Nora ‘“ Yes—after the rent!” “Yes. Ive been feeling that coming all afternoon—lI’ve been feeling it in my bones!” There was a pause, wherein the knocking came again. As one they shuddered, albeit Nora did essay a cynical, contemptuous smile. ‘Well? Are we home, or are we not home?” she muttered. “We're not! Oh, we’re not!” ‘I’m afraid we are, though,’ Nora sighed shakily. ‘“‘ He knows blamed well breathed. CORNIGLOOOKS (E@)