Argosy, Vol. 123, No. 2 — page 112: what you’re looking at

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

244 poised and waiting for he knew not what. It was like the pause on the football-field just before the kick-off, with the two teams scattered on the green, each man crouched and waiting, and all the crowded bleachers breathless with expectation. The door opened; his secretary was announcing a lady to see Mr. Garth. A lady2 What did the secretary mean by the inflection, the singular drawl with which he lingered over the word? And there was a peculiar meaning suggestive of criticism in the eyes which he fixed upon his chief. ‘* Show her in,” growled Garth. The secretary turned away, and then came back. He seemed in a silent distress. “Well?” asked Garth. “Shall I bring you your collar and coat?”’ suggested the man. Blood leaped in the veins of Garth. It was not the first time he had sensed an incipient contempt in this smooth-spoken, trimly dressed youngster. It was a con- tinual reminder of Tyson, in some subtle manner. “To hell with collar and coat,’ roared Garth. ‘“ Show her in. Is this a drawing- room?” The secretary vanished through the door as if impelled by a strong hand, and in the brief pause Garth remembered that his oath must have rung with perfect clearness into the outer room. He dropped into his chair. It fortified him with official importance to be thus ensconced behind a desk; and then he saw Margaret Tyson in the door. Into the second before he went to greet her Garth crowded some intense thought. First he wanted to shout aloud with triumph. Then he remembered Henry Tyson with a touch of cold shame. But, after all, what was that? Margaret Tyson stood in his office; Margaret Tyson was at the valley of the Chiluah; Mar- garet Tyson was in his country—the coun- try of the strong hand and the fighting man. If he could have known that this thing would be before the night was over—if he could have gone to Tyson and made a clean breast of it—the entire harmless artifice which had now won its fruits—no, it was too late for that. He remembered the face THE ARGOSY. of Tyson when the latter had refused to dine with the big boss. Pride! — Garth had moved from behind his desk; he was shaking hands with her. He was aware that Margaret looked first at his hand and then at his face as he greeted her. And it made him see that his hand was very soiled, and that her yellow gloves were very fresh. It was still worse when she raised her eyes, for the bright glance went through and through him, and he was conscious that there were dark, soiled places in his soul of souls, a He asked her to sit down, and she thanked him graciously; but no sooner was she seated than something in her cool com- posure made him-tremendously ill at ease. He stood grotesquely, in the middle of the floor, with his feet braced wide apart as though he stepped on the bridge of a sea- tossed ship; and his hands dangled, vast and useless. So he went behind the desk to cover his confusion. He was no sooner seated than ke re- gretted the move keenly. Would she think that he had taken up the position the better to impress her with his official significance? A faint shadow of a smile was touching at the corners of her mouth, and his heart sank. Moreover, the protecting desk did not cover his collarless neck, nor his un- kempt hair. Margaret was glancing out the window. There was nothing but blank dark outside; was she pretending that she did not notice? It had seemed an age to the disturbed mind of Garth, but it was really only an instant after she sat down that she spoke: “ You're busy, Mr. Garth. I only want to find out Hal’s address. I’ve been writing to him, general delivery, you see, for he’s been expecting to move. Can you give it to me?” The very sound of her voice troubled him, as darkness had frightened him with the terror of the unknown in his childhood. She threw him back upon an aggressive defensive in which he felt a foolish desire to talk about things he had done, show himself in action, justify his existence. But here, under her eyes and in his own office, he was helpless. DOOLK C@