Argosy, Vol. 123, No. 2 — page 154: what you’re looking at

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

286 to see!”” There was no reference to the Cleveland fiasco—no thought of it, appar- ently—and no question of the long absence, long in a profession where some out-of-the- way job may carry an engineer away for a year or more. ‘We've got the contract for a new foun- dry in Bridgeport,” Stevens hurried on to explain, “and not only are we short of ground space but we have to build while we keep the old foundry in operation.” He carried Wells into the elevator with him, headed for his room. ‘“‘ We’ve had a couple of men on the job, including an underpin- ning expert, but—hang it, Wells—you’re the only man in the country to straighten us out!” By noon Jack had closed a tentative agreement with Stevens. Word of his re- turn had been noised about the club, and an R. T. Workmaster, representing a St. Louis. firm, had made an appointment for the evening. A huge industrial plant in that city was about to enlarge and rebuild. The following day was to be spent with Stevens, and, if everything went well, the following week would take him to Bridge- port. Singularly elated, Jack stole away for a view of the city and its changes, and his steps took him toward the Astor. In the lobby of that hotel the typical New Yorker saunters up and meets himself, by chance or by appointment. At the height of his success Jackson Wells had been a familiar figure in the café and the corridors. Now he wanted to see if he should find, by any freak of coincidence, some one of his old acquaintances. :-He threaded ways still familiar, and finally en- sconced himself in one of the cozy chairs © close to the entrance to the dining-room, where he could view all those entering. What luck was his this morning! Had he been in his own garments, even though shaved and with a new collar, would he have dared enter the club in the first place, and would Stevens have accepted him so readily? How far was his success due to his appearance of success? He smiled as he thought that these clothes, or more like them, were his for a week. For a week he had an address on upper Fifth Avenue. In that time he-surely THE ARGOSY. would be well upon the road to fortune and standing. He had never dared hope for this. No story of Alger’s would have seemed more improbable. All at once he was con- scious of the approach of a strikingly pretty girl, down the alley between the chairs, a pleasing interruption to his varied reflec- tions. Although it was early in the season, the wore her furs—a long coat of silver fox, fit- ting snugly at the neck and cut to the trim slenderness of her figure. Her hat, a gray- feathered toque, almost but not quite masked hair of the color of brass in a lathe. Her eyes were blue, her coloring a rich olive, her lips full-blooded. She came right up to him and put two tiny white- gloved hands on his shoulders. ‘ Jackson Wells!” she exclaimed. For a moment he was surprised and non- plused. He did not recognize her. Then he jumped to his feet. ‘Mary Carroll!” He smiled as he matched her form of address. , “ You know,” she explained, “ this is per- fectly splendid, meeting you! You’re not doing a thing—don’t tell me you are—and I have two entirely useless matinee tickets unless you will have mercy on me, and be- sides, there’s everything you’ve got to tell me before I let you go!” He took her arm. It seemed quite nat- ural after four years. “We can’t talk -much at a matinee!” he hazarded. ‘Indeed, yes!” she rejoined. comic opera revival!” He was aware of many glances of admira- tion as he escorted her through the lobby. In his memory, as he called her up now, the last picture of her was at a dinner and dance in this very hotel. She had worn a simple evening gown of blue, trimmed with a darker blue. No one in the ballroom had possessed half her beauty, and he— “ This isa Jackson Wells flushed as he helped her > into a taxi. In four years he had learned many things, and it was not pleasant to look back upon his own blindness. In his life in lodging-houses and cheap boarding places he had lost his sense of aloofness, and had gained an appreciation of woman at her best. The slattern had disgusted him. But many a lonely night he had watched COnmiclboo S C@