Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 149: what you’re looking at

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

MR. Mrs. Gerhard must have enjoyed the chat, too. After he had gone, she drew a silken shawl about her comely shoulders and gazed at the river shadows, now point- ing to the farther shore. On her face was a smile; a dreamy, contemplative smile. iT. Mr. MonrFrent returned to South Fair- field early in April, according to his custom, in order to dominate the annual meeting of the directors of the Monfrent Hat Co. The usual program for his directors was: come to order; vote “ aye” as indicated; authorize the customary dividend; adopt a resolution congratulating the management; adjourn. There was a slight hitch during the present assemblage. George Perry asked a question. Apologetically enough, it is true, but a question, nevertheless. ‘‘ What progress did the new ladies’ hat department make during the year?” he in- quired. Mr. Monfrent answered incisively. lost seventy-eight thousand dollars.” “Might I ask if the president has any theory as to why that department lost money?” ‘“‘ Because it had a rotten designer,” Mr. Monfrent blandly informed the questioner. “T’ve ‘been trying to get a good one.” The meeting immediately resumed its orthodoxy. No more questions were asked. Despite the new department’s deficit, the older sections of the hat factory returned substantial profits. A dividend was voted. Yet the deviation from routine annoyed Mr. Monfrent for a week after the meeting. His directors were not supposed to ask questions. Devil of a nuisance having them taking interrogative bites at the hand that fed them. He determined, after days of cogitation, to settle at once the matter of a new de- signer. A young lady had been recom- mended to him. Highly spoken of by sev- eral of his best customers. Summoning his secretary, he dictated a letter. ‘““T don’t know what your present salary is, but I will pay you five thousand a year more, if an interview confirms what I have heard about you,” it concluded. ¢¢ It MONFRENT’S FOURSOME. 621 An answer came the first of the following week. ‘““T am not interested in making a new connection at present. Thank you for hav- ing considered me.” It was signed “ Aileen Marley.” Mr. Monfrent’s private secretary laid the letter timidly on his broad desk for perusal and withdrew discreetly into her next door shelter until such time as the in- evitable storm should subside. This was a bad moment for Arthur Mon- frent, Jr., to choose for the renewal of. his offensive for a start in business. The secre- tary bluntly told him as much, but he ig- nored the warning and entered his father’s office. “* What the devil is the world coming to?” Mr. Monfrent demanded as his son ap- peared. He had just finished reading Miss Marley’s letter. Arthur ignored the question about the ultimate destination of the universe. “Look here, dad,” he began. “Well?” the older man prompted omin- ously. ‘Well, it’s this,” said the son, hesitantly, ““T’ve decided if you won’t give me a start in business I’m going to give up golf.” “Give up golf?’ Mr. Monfrent de- manded when the force of gravity finally pulled him back into his chair. “ Give up golf?” Quit!” said Arthur flatly. Mr. Monfrent sprang agitatedly to his feet and paced furiously about his desk, peevishly kicking at an inoffensive copper waste-basket in his path. The ultimatum stunned him. It was even more unortho- dox than George Perry’s question during the directors’ meeting. What, Mr. Monfrent wondered, was the world coming to? But he did not voice this favorite sentiment in so many words. What he did say, in awesome tone, was, “ Give up golf?” His son nodded gravely. Then, fearing that his father might not have seen this affirmation, he spoke. “If you don’t give me a job, I quit golf.” And the opening of the Father and Son tournament was only a fortnight away, Mr. Montrent thought with horrible sinking of COMMUG NOOK CO