Argosy All-Story Weekly, October 7, 1922 — page 92: what you’re looking at

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

238 As he left the window he was hailed by Tabor, a man even younger than himself, with an air of manty bravado and the eyes of a prteous boy. . “Say, Gunyon, I got my car downstairs. ’S too early for breakfast. Let’s ride around a while and cast the cubes. Il borrow a fotding card table.” “I’m on,” said Guyon. The car, a big limousine, stood just be- yond the door with the chauffeur asleep in- side. Tabor shook him awake, and he slid under his wheel. “Where to?” he asked. “You can just stop here,” said Tabor. “We'll pull the curtains.” At such an heur a chauffeur may permit himself a certain freedom. “Tf you pull the curtains,” he said in- differently, “the cop on the beat 11 get nosey.” “Oh, well, drive anywhere you like, then,” said Tabor. ‘“ But choose smooth pavements.” Inside they drew the curtains, turned on the dome light, and spreading the board on their knees, shook the dice. Outside the early birds, hurrying to work, sneered envi- ously at the big slow-moving car with the curtains drawn. For Guyon the game lacked zest. There was a weight on his breast that would not be forgotten. By and by he leoked out from the curtains and perceived a faint gray suffusion in the sky. The street was full of fog. “ Got to leave you now,” he said. “Oh, hell!” protested Tabor. “’S too early.” But Guyon put out the ligkt and drew a curtain. ‘“ Where are we? Eighth Avenue. Here’s the Elevated station. Ask your man to put me down at the Plaza entrance to the k.”’ Tabor did so. ‘“‘ What the hell are you after in the park at this hour?” he asked. “Oh, just a walk to clear my bram.” ‘Good idea!” satd Tabor. ‘ Vll come with you.” Guyon sheok his head. “You're a good fellow,” he said. I don’t want you.” “Ha!” said Tabor. “ You got a date!” “ But ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, Guyon shrugged. “At six thirty on a winter’s morning with a fog as thick as cheese!’’ said Tabor facetiously. ‘“ That is a novelty!” Guyon let it go at that. ““Goed luck!” Tabor called after him as he got out of the car. Guyon walked quickly into the park. The air was tepid and saturated with mois- ture; the earth was like a full sponge; all the snow had melted. It was that moment of mystery when objects begin to reveal themselves in perspective, but as yet without any tinge of color. There was light, but the source of it was obscure. Gaunt trees Stalked out of the fog, showed a clean-cut silhouette against the murky sky for a mo- ment, then receded into oblivion. There was a ceaseless drip from their branches sounding like a myriad little stumbling feet. Guyon circled the pond, and crossed the narrows by the arched bridge. In a little bay he saw for a moment a swan floatmg motionless with inclined head like a carven bird. He met no other living creature. Be yond the bridge the rocky hillock deadened the grumble of the town, but he never lest it quite, even at that deathly hour a curi- ously disturbing murmur, distant trolley cars, Elevated trains, milk wagons, and motors. At his right was the slope of grass. He knew it well, for as a child he had surrepti- tiously coasted there at the imminent risk ef plunging into an arm of the lake at the bottom. Leaving the paved path he went down the slope, digging his heels into the soft turf to keep from slipping. His light pumps were soon seaked through. At the bottom was a narrow space of grass, then the little bay. He was the first there. He waited, shivering. In the close stilmess, encompassed by the fog, he could no longer keep from thinking. Never did a lady’s champion await the issue with less ardor. It was not fear, for he was indifferent to his own fate, but it suddenly seemed to him that he was playing the part of a foolish schoolboy. Even if he knocked Sutliffe out, how wouk! it help Diantha any? And it was much more hkely that Sutliffe, a bigger man and a traimed boxer, would knock him COMmiICcooOo SS 1e@