Argosy, Vol. 85, No. 3 — page 95: what you’re looking at

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

GLAD lunch. ‘She don’t seem to care how he looks. Met ’em walkin’ toward the plant ten minutes ago. She had on a middie— no class to that, is there?” ‘“‘ Oh, I guess——I guess she’s glad not to dress up in the mornings like she has to in town,” said Mr. Leeds weakly. “ She was class enough last night. We’re goin’ to the White City to-night. Can’t Nan and you comé along? I'll settle that little bill, Harry, as soon as—”’ ‘Don’t let that worry you, Walt; your credit’s good,’ grinned Anderson good- naturedly. “‘ Sure, Nan and I'll go along. See you at School and High at eight?” ‘Yep, I guess so. Ed and Bess are going, too. Gosh, I’ll miss Mil when she leaves.” ‘““Can’t you persuade her to stay in Wedgely, Walt?” ‘“‘T’ve tried to ask her twice, but she wouldn’t let me,” sighed Mr. Leeds. ‘ I’m gonna try again to-night.” ‘‘ Sure—that’s right—never say die!”’ Mrs. Race, Mildred’s stout mother, came to the door that evening when Wal- ter called for her daughter. “TI ain’t no idea where our Mil is, Walt,” she told him, peering up and down the street. ‘‘ She ain’t been in since right after supper. My, don’t you lookegrand! And she didn’t tell me where she was off to. Will you set a spell and wait?” Walter Leeds, mystified and a bit hurt, “set a spell ” in a stiff rocker in his white flannels, his navy-blue coat and‘tie and hose, and twiddled his straw hat with its navy-blue band. Presently, when his watch told him it was ten minutes to eight, Mildred Race came down the street, a slim, white, fluttering form between the bars of moonlight and the velvet shadows the great trees. threw. She had on a little demure gray dress and a pale-pink silk sweater, and she was breathing rapidly, one hand on her breast. ‘“ My stars, Walt, if I had a weak heart I’d drop dead at your feet!” she giggled, leaning agaix@t the vine-twisted pillar near him—her face flushed prettily. “I did some Marathon, believe me! Knowin’ RAGS. 437 you were on the point of suicide. Wait until I get a hat and powder my nose and we'll run right along.” And she was gone, like a flash into the house before Walter could voice the ques- tion he had some right to ask. On the way to the trolley he asked it. “Oh,” said Mildred carelessly. ‘I dropped in on one of the girls. Gee, Walt, is that Nan Dawson with Harry Anderson? Got the contour of a cushion, hasn’t she? If I ever come to that—” Miss Race drew a long breath and hitched up the fluffy white furs closer about her little rounded chin. ‘You'll never come to that,” said Wal- ter Leeds, with finality as*they reached the other couples, standing at the cor- ner of School and High Streets. The White City was much as other white cities; mostly yellow glitter. Per- ilous dips and paths outlined in flaunting lights against the skies, here the swaying, enticing music of the ‘‘ Habanera’”’ from ‘‘ Carmen,” there the more enticing notes of the latest fox trot, and over to one side a little artificial lake outlined in light, and decorated by various row-boats and a launch or two. Among those who “ trotted ” untiringly at. ten cents a trot, were Mildred Race and her ‘“ crowd.” Mildred had not been herself, according to her escort, al the evening. She was quiet and abstracted; even her-feet forgot themselves now.and then, and when that happened Walter grew really perturbed. Something must be wrong. He felt vaguely angry with Mildred in that she was not exerting herself to make his eve- ning pleasant. After all he had spent on his clothes for her sake— Holy smoke! A girl had a right to laugh when a man said something smart anyhow. Presently. ‘‘ Let’s go have a soda, Walt,” Mildred suggested right when he was noisily demanding another encore. ‘“Don’t you want the rest of this—” he began, but she was threading her way through the swaying couples to the door. * Sick, Mil?” — comicloool C©