Argosy, Vol. 85, No. 3 — page 12: what you’re looking at

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

304 citizenship papers here, Edward?” mur- mured Fernandez. “Not yet. Ill get around to it some day,” yawned the president of the Hemmett-Girton Tobacco Company. ‘““And renounce your allegiance to the Stars and Stripes, eh?”’ “What?” Hemmett started a little. ‘* [—er-—suppose so.” ‘“One might do worse, Edward,” Fer- nandez laughed gently. ‘Ours is a wonderful little country, growing more wonderful all the time. In the four years that you have been here, see what strides we have made in manufacturing! See what capital has come into Guanama! See what mighty factories have been built, to furnish clothes and shoes and shells to the incredible armies of Europe! Another decade, Edward, and among the great powers will stand Guanama!” He nodded as he rose. Hemmett smiled indulgently in the velvet darkness. That was one small failing of all Guana- mans—to feel, when a new factory or two had been built, that Guanama was the world’s industrial center. Nor was Hemmett disposed to argue the point this evening; he was lazy, with an after-dinner, purely Guanaman lazi- ness. He wished merely to sit here on the terrace of his beautiful home and reflect upon the almighty goodness of life in general. So that he did not even accompany his native father-in-law to the street when that gentleman made for his own ex- quisite mansion just across the way; he lounged farther back in his chair, gazed at his cigar, and thought. First and last, Guanama had been good to him and to Steve Girton! Guanama had furnished them some of the finest tobacco-land in the world, with the biggest profits. Guanama had paid the pair of them an even million dollars for the capture of Dr. Manuel Hervira, the national menace, four years back. Guanama had kept Stevé as its perfect secretary of war at a very tidy salary, and had been wise in so doing. THE ARGOSY. Not to mention his other income from the country, good old Steve was like to draw down that annual twenty-five thousand for life. And Guanama had given Hemmett Carmen Fernandez for wife, which was best of all! Mr. Hemmett, then, listened to the superb United States piano in his drawing-room and to the laughter of Edward Hemmett, Jr., aged three, and yawned gloriously. North America was all right, but South America, and Guanama in particular, was better! Steve Girton was happy here, too, al- though he had not seen much of Steve lately. Girton, to be sure, lived right here in the Hemmett home, but most of his days were spent at the war office, and most of his evenings lately had been spent somewhere else. Mr. Hemmett frowned drowsy amuse- ment at his own lethargic mental state. Steve had mentioned dining somewhere, but—where? Not that he was worrying, because Stephen Girton was capable of taking cate of himself in Guanama or anywhere else. Hemmett stretched his legs and drowsed through another hour, to rouse at the sight of Mr. Girton him- self. Or was Steve himself? Latterly he had been silent and preoccupied; now he seemed to vibrate and glow in the dark- ness! Latterly he had used many under- tones; now he shouted: “You! Ned! Wake up!” ‘ Eh?” cried Mr. Hemmett. ‘It’s happened! She’s going to marry me!” ‘““Who’s going to marry you?” ‘“ Mercedes!”’ Girton’s voice dropped in something like awe. ‘ Mercedes Tesoro!” “Ts that a fact?” Hemmett was wide awake and staring at him. “It doesn’t seem possible, does it?” ‘““It—it may be possible,” Hemmett chuckled. “If Carmen was willing to marry me, there’s no real reason why the next most beautiful girl in Guanama shouldn’t marry you, I suppose; but— comicloool C©