Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 13, 1925 — page 82: what you’re looking at

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

904 Judge Oglethorpe ignored this by-play. ‘““T think,” he said, “‘ that the point has been satisfactorily proved. Have you any other proofs, Mr. Globlon?” “Wall, I shore ought t’ have, yore honor. I’m a charter member of th’ Yumpa Epworth League, I’m one of th’ founders of th’ Yumpa Society fer th’ Suppression of Vice, I’m on th’ board of governors of th’ Yumpa Rotarians, and I’m one of th’ pil- lars of th’ Yumpa Y. M. C. A.” Judge Oglethorpe nodded gravely. ‘“‘ And from your experience and observations,” he asked, ‘‘ you consider that you are in a position to state with authority that Yumpa is a fair, beautiful and peace-loving com- munity?” “Sech is my firm and sacred opinion, yore honor.” The judge gazed at Red Wilpin with a smile of amusement and triumph. ‘“‘ Have we satisfied you?” he scornfully inquired. ‘‘ Have we proved to your full pleasure that Yumpa is a community in which vice and evil and corruption do not exist In any form? If not, speak up—or forever after hold your peace!” ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEERLY, Red Wilpin hung his head. He had nothing to say. “Very well!” the judge cried. ‘ We will now go forward with the trial of Lawrence Wilpin.” There was a shrill-voiced interruption. Margery Corbin had sprung to her feet. Her cheeks were pink with excitement. Her large, dark eyes shone. Her pink lips were parted slightly upon her snowy white teeth. She was a beautiful and appealing little figure in her dark riding jacket, her whip- cord breeches-and trim riding boots. “Wait a minute!” she cried with her little fists clenched at her side. “‘ There has been a miscarriage of justice!” The judge stiffened in his chair. ‘““Whatdaya mean, a miscarriage of jus- tice?” he said indignantly. The girl flung out her hand and pointed at the man on the witness stand. ‘““I mean, your honor,” she said breath- lessly, “ that that man is crazy!” ‘“ Crazy?” Judge Oglethorpe intoned. Red Wiupin slapped his lean thigh em- phatically. ‘“ Crazy as a bedbug,” he affirmed. TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEEK v WHEN CHEEK U U MEETS CHEEK HEN cheek meets cheek In the dusk of a summer night, When cheek meets cheek, Though it really isn’t right, When cheek meets cheek, To the moan of the saxophone, And the note, high, thin, Of the violin, And the voice of the slide trombone— When cheek meets cheek, And the slow feet follow the tune, When cheek meets cheek, And the window frames a moon, When cheek meets cheek, To the sound of the music’s whine, Why, all I pray Is just that they May be your cheek and mine! Mary Carolyn Davies. cCOmiclbool CO