Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 43: what you’re looking at

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

sate them for any loss they may sustain. Please understand that this 1s important and that the request is unusual. Thank vou.” Mr. Bennett decided that it was time for his luncheon. He had to get out of that office, he felt, or expire beneath the eyes of his staff. He encountered two or three general agents as he walked to Black’s restaurant, but he ignored their smiles, and rejected their pressing invitations to share a table. Mr. Bennett was not sociable, as a rule, ancl less so than ever this dav. He lunched long and rather heavily, but he kept his eyes on his food and his thoughts within him and remained solitary in the crowded dining room. . Miss Simpson awaited him when he re- turned. The newspapers had agreed, re- luctantly and with much questioning, to stop the advertisements. Mr. Bennett did not ask about their interrogations. He thanked the young woman as the compres- sion around his heart eased appreciably. The young cub had been checked before he was well started. II. Mr. BENNETT eschewed his friends for the next few days and frequently used the subway. He did not enjoy crowds, but he had found that isolation was possible in a crowd, or at least one could feel impersonal, almost anonymous. As he meditated, swinging from a strap, one iate afternoon, his eyes rested on a very striking triple length placard set between the side and ceiling of the car: WHAT’S THE ANSWER? Ti you were a girl, wealthy, beautiful and cultured and a man whom vou might love proposed to you— Tf your father forbade the marriage— Would you agree with him? Or—would you say for yourself: THE ANSWER IS YES! The air in the subway suddenly became stifling. Mr. Bennett cursed the conges- tion, as he struggled dizzily to the door. He rode home in a cab from the next sta- tion, feeling sick in soul and body. IS YES! o15 Dinner was a serious and solitary meal. He missed Florence, yet he found a crumb of consolation in recalling that he had sent her away to avoid some such bitterness. At least, she was not being subjected directly to the vengeful insults of the young scoundrel. Doubtless every scandal-monger on the avenue was chuckling over the topic by now, for if there was any doubt as to the identity of the persons referred to in the advertisements, that cub Hastings could be depended on to reveal the objects of his spiteful venom. Mr. Bennett wondered whether he should write to Florence and warn her, but decided not to. Why worry her, when she would hear of it only too soon, anyway? He shuffled the little pile of personal mail at his plate, wondering if she had written. There was no letter from her, but at the bottom of the pile a postcard faced him. He turned it over and read: The answer is yes! Tf— Mr. Bennett tore the card to fragments So small that a cipher expert would have experienced difficulty in reading the mes- sage or threat contained on it. Mr. Ben- nett cursed deep and long, and through his muttered maledictions, he saw the future ahead as a vista of persecution without end. Instead of having stopped it, as he had thought, he now saw that he had merely diverted the channel of insult. Was there no protection for a decent citizen against such a beast? The possibility of criminal prosecution for blackmail or extortion or coercion came to him and Mr. Bennett pondered it. He might even obtain an injunction from the courts—but such a course meant even greater publicity, and he felt that official recognition of his campaign was exactly what the vengeful fool would most desire. Mr. Bennett decided to put the problem by, and go to the club. But no, he could not go to the club. He would take a walk, and avoid the idiotic interrogations of his friends. He needed a walk anyway, after what he had gone through in the last few days. Conn Ghook CO