Casper Daily Tribune Newspaper, January 16, 1917, Page 2

t “her. awn ee eee eee ee GLORINS DOMANCE- Oy Tir. and Mrs. Rupert Mughes Novelized from the Motion Picture Play of the same name by George Kleine. Conran, 1910, by Adelade M. Hughes SYNOPSIS. Pierpont Stafford, banker and railroad magnate, with his sixteen h- ter, Gloria, i wintering at P: Gloria is a vivacious but willful young lady who chafes under the restraining nd of a governess from whom she re- peatedly escapes. Her chtidish capers Cause young Doctor Royce to fall in love with her. Ene ateala from her room at night and in an auto plunges into the surf where she leaves ci lost in the evergiades hands of the Seminole Indians. rescued and returned to her father who had offered a reward for her return. Gloria falls in love with her rescuer, Fre- neau., Five years later she leaves school and mets Freneau at the theater; his at- tention having been occupied with her sister-in-law Ke has Gloria. Gloria feels that her on tered. Later Freneau forgive him. Gloria's sis becomes intensely jealous und Doctor Royce discovers in her an ally to assist in thwarting Freneau. Doctor Royce warns Freneau that there is another Woman besides Glorta; Freneau Koes sletghing with Gloria without her father's knowledge. It results in pneumonta for Gloria, whose family becomes incensed at Freneau when the: learn the truth. Royce is summoned to alleviate Gloria's suffering. SIXTH EPISODE. The sudden and perilous illness of Gloria Stafford threw her official lover, Freneau, also into a sudden and peri- lous situation. He and his partner, Mulry, had counted on using Freneau's engagement ‘to the daughter of iis great Pierpont Stafford as a kind of collateral at the bank. When the girl was stricken down with pneumonia, Freneau's heart was wrung as well as his purse. He was genuinely in love with Gloria, it was not hard to love so beautiful, so rich, and so infatuating a girl. But he had not counted on death as a possible rival. And there was another, a more cer- tain rival—Dr. Stephen Royce—whom Gloria's brother, David, }ad called in to take charge of the case. Royce had loved Gloria before Freneau ever saw It was Royce who had actually gaved her from the Seminole Indians. Royce despised Freneau and had told him so. Royce would not even permit Fremeau to enter the sick room, where be wer waster fj | | something.” That was what her eyes sald, while her lips said: “Congratulations to you | | | Freneau was permitted to send uD} flowers, but he could not be sure that | they reached her. He wondered what Royce was saying about hirn to Gloria, and whether she believed it. He did not know that Royce had been discouraged to make even what protest he might havo given voice to. When he first entered Gloria's room, Royce saw on the little table near her bed a silver-framed portrait of Fre- neau. Gloria was too delirious to see how his lip curled with scorn, But her father saw it, and when Royce said, “This fellow is a scoundrel,” Pierpont answered, sternly: “I called you to treat my daughter's health, not her heart.” Freneau did not know that he had such an ally in the family. But ho knew that he had an enemy of a pe- culiar sort, an enemy who loved him not wisely, but too well. And that was THE CASPER us over. Go on, and come back with the bacon, or don't come back at all.” Freneau would almost rather have gone to the electric chair, but needs must when the devil drives. So he took a big bouquet and a big ledger and a taxicab to the Stafford house. And whom should he meet as he was ushesed in but Lois telling Pier- pont good-by. And what should Pier- pont say but, “Iam going to tell you a great secret, Lois. Dick, here, is en- gaged to Gloria. Don’t tell anyone.” Lois had no more self-control than to topple over. Freneau was disgusted with her more than ever now. She had enough presence of mind to blame her collapse on the heat of the room and her alarm for Gloria. And the excuse sufficed for old Stafford, but as she left, she gave the sadly shaken Freneau a look that said, “Oh, no, I won't tell anyone, but I'll tell you both. I'm sure you'll be very happy. Good-by.” Freneau’s heart fluttered still more when he broached the subject of the loan to Pierpont—broke to Pierpont the unpleasant news that his new son- in-law’'s first act was to borrow money. He put ft on a business basis, but Pier- pont, like most other millionaires, hated to be sponged on, and he sliook his head in answer to Freneau's propo- sition Freneau waz in a pitiable plight. He was about to slink away in despair, when he happened to think to say: “You offered me a reward for the rescu of Gloria from the Indians. I refused the money then, so I thought that now — perhaps — well — I thought—" “That's true,” said Pierpont. “That suggests a way out of it. Your propo- sition does not appeal to my business sense, but I can do this. I'll pay you double the rewand with compound in- terest for five years. That will square us up.” } us up Freneau emiled with a renewal of hope, and Stafford wrote him an im- portant check Freneau thanked him, promised to return the money, and left the bou- Guet for Gloria. As he made his way out he met Royce just coming down from Gloria's Freneau hated the sight of Royce for many reasons. We usually hate people have wronged. He managed to ask how Glor Royce said she was bet- but not yet out of danger. A cu- look came over his face as he added: “Look a bit I don’t see why, but she does, are peculiar. Now, I'd rather < my own heart than hers. She ants you for a husband, and if you'll lay fair and walk straight from now on, I'll do nothing to interfere with your plans. But if you play false with her, I'll—well—there's nothing I won't do to save her from you.” Freneau promised glibly that he would be an ideal lover and a model of loyalty. Royce said: “J hope so,” without much hope, and “You'd bet, ter!" with rather too much empha- sis. Still, Freneau had the check in room we a was here, Freneau, I don’t like but Gloria loves you a lot. Wom- you br | his pocket, and he went back to his office with “the bacon.” Mulry made him so welcome that he forgot his new troubles in the radiance of the new business plans. But his promise to Royce was put to the test at once, for that very aft- ernoon, when he reached his apart- ment, Lois appeared there. She was heavily veiled, but Freneau's valet seemed to know her. He backed out discreetly. When Lois threw off the shroud her face was terrible in its resolution, “You shan't marry Gloria, Dick,” she eaid. “You shan’t throw me over— not for her? You shan't marry her of all the people in the world.” Freneau was tired of Lois and tired of interference. He forgot to be gen- tle. He laughed. Lois, the wife of David Stafford The poor Don Juan of a Freneau had never dreamed when he began @ casual flirtation with Lois that she would prove so desperate a worshiper. He had expected that she would let him go with a sigh or a smile, as his other sweethearts had done when they realized that his heart had wings and used them. He was to learn how se riously Lois took his attentions and to learn it at a most inconvenient time. He had respected Pierpont’s wish that the engagement to Gloria should be kept secret, and had told no one but his partner, Mulry. cidedly not told Lois. ning to discard her as gracefully as possible before the news broke. Mulry had chuckled with joy at the news of the engagement as glum as an owl whey he learned of Gloria's illness. At length he said to Freneau: “My boy, you've got to go and bor He had most de- | He was plan- | But he grew | row of your papa-in-law to be, or we've got to close the shop. Our branch of- fices are howling for their back pay, and we've got to pull down some cash somewhere or pull down the blinds. Go talk to Pierpont and show him the books. Show him the big killing we're going to make in the street if he'll tide DAILY TRIBUNE “No? And how are you going to! stop me? | Lois’ cold, hard answer bowled him over: “Even Gloria can’t be so crazy about you that she would marry you if I were found dead here.” Freneau stared at her aghast. He could not quite be sure of her meaning till he saw a little phial in her hand. He leaped for it. But she dodged | round his desk and put it to her lips. | “Don't you come near me or you'll wish you hadn't,” she cried. “If you take another step I'll swallow this.” Freneau had to temporize with the mad woman. He surrendered weakly and dropped into a chair. | “Listen to me, Lois,” he pleaded. “T) went to her father to borrow money. I've got to have his support or go bankrupt. If I do that I'll blow my brains out. Of course, I don’t love Gloria. My heart is yours. But I can't marry you. If | marry her she won't interfere with your love and mine. We shall be all the safer. If you love me, you won't ruin me. If you don't love me, give me the phial and I'll get out of your way.” She was in so insane a mood of jealousy and longing, that she be lieved him. She made him swear that he spoke the truth, as if an oath or twe meant anything to him. Then sho suffered herself to remain his dupe, and he took her down to a taxicab, feeling sure that he was well rid of her. When she had gone he breathed more easily. He even laughed. He had everybody working for him. His rival, Royce, was toiling to save Gloria's life. His ex-flame, Lois, was in league with him to keep up the de-/ ception. Gloria's father was lending | him money. He was plainly a child | of destiny. He was so reassured by his luck that he made a holiday with Mulry, who planned to start off at once on a round of the different cities where they had branch offices for the convenience of victims who lived far from New York. se . Ignorance may be bliss, but it is not Freneau was blissful at Lois v quieted. He dia@ not dream, nor did she, that David fford was awakening. When Fre a took the taxicab, she 1 her veil, but a veil is only lower | a part isguise at best, and it may attract Neither Freneau nor Lois noted that a certain Mrs. Coleridge | was or that she stared hard. | Mrs, ¢ © was one of the prett!- est faces in Freneau’s pack of dis- cards. She was a sort of female Fre- neau, but in Freneau she had met her match, because she allowed her- self to be more thrilled than thrilling. He had passed on without a long pause before her shrine. Mrs. Coleridge had seen Freneau with Lois at various tea dances, and she recognized Lois all the more read- ily for her veil. She was outraged in her finest sensibilities. She felt it her duty to see that Lois was punished. She did not want to appear as a com- plaining witness, but her righteous in- dignation carried her to a large hotel fu whose writing room she found pen, ink, paper, envelopes, and secrecy. She dashed off a little note to David ad- vising him that his wife was showing more interest than he might approve in a certain heart-breaker. Mrs, Cole- ridge neglected to sign her name. In fact, she rather disguised her hand- writing, though this made little dif- ference, since David did not know it, anyway. She dropped tie little letter into a mail-box with the inno- cent glee of an anarchist slipping a bomb with a time fuse under a mil- lionaire’s automobile. The United States post office author- ities carried the loaded letter to Da- vid's office for her. He opened it and read it, but could not understand it. He read it again and understood it, but could not believe it. He was about to toss it in the waste-basket, where such missives belong. He read “Hurry Up and Get Me Well.” | breaker” might be. ; that Lois had been fond of Freneau “Then Dog On It! | H it again. It threw him into a black pit of agony and consternation. Now, he could, but would not, be- lieve it. He wondered who the “heart- He remembered years before. He dismissed this sus- picion with contempt. He loathed the letter. Only cowards and misct makers write such letters. He thre this one from him as if it were thing unclean. Yet the anony poison gnawed away in his brain. clenched and unclenched his t and paced the floor, beads of pers tion dripping down his face. At last he fought it out with himself and decided that he would trust Lois mous He till she was proved unworthy. How- ever, the letter se ed to whisper to him, “A little test will do no harm.” Of course, Lois was guiltless, but perhaps she had been careless of ap- pearances, It would be better to wait and rebuke the indiscretion when it occurred. He had been talking of a trip South to a meeting of a board of railroad directors on which his father had placed him. It was not necessary for him to go. But he might pretend that it was, and tell Lois good-by, and pretend to leave, and then—. He dared not put the scheme into words. But he dared not let the chance go past to make sure. That evening, when he went home, Lois greeted him with her usual warmth. Before he had quite decided what to do, he had told her that he was called South for ten days, and he had not urged her to go with him. She did not ask to go. In fact, he thought that she took the bad news with just a little too much philosophy. He was tormented with shame and suspicion. The next day, when he went to his office, he bade her good-by as if he were the criminal and she the saint. He could not have imagined that Lois only waited his departure to fling on her hat and her veil and speed to Freneau before he should leave for his own office. She found him, and he gavo her a cold welcome. When she told him that David was to be in the far South for a week, he did not seem to be in- terested. When she rejoined that now they could be together without the an- noyance of David’s presence, Freneau solemnly reminded her of the danger from gossips and servants. He must walk warily, now that he was betrothed to a bank account like Staf- ford’s. To this Lois made the astonishing answer that if New York was too full of spies, she would go elsewhere. She reminded him of a beautiful village in the Catskill mountains, and declared her intention of paying it a visit; also she advised Freneau to happen there st the same time—his fiancee, Gloria, was too ill to see him, anyway, and he could give a business trip as an ex- cuse. 4 Freneau was indignant, but Lois was dangerous, She threatened him again with the awful weapon of suicide, against which there is no defense. He realized that he was the prey of a kind of blackmailer. He had once thought of Lois as a conquest to be proud of; now he saw that he himself was the victim and she the tyrant. With one rash act she could not only destroy herself but all Freneau’, plans. Again he surrendered. Surrender was becoming a habit. He made one condition, that they should take along the letters they had exchanged and de- stroy them. He wanted no written evidence of his past to imperil his fu- ture. Lois consented, and hurried away, rejoicing. She left Freneau in a mood of black rage and remorse. The quality of his remorse was shown in his medita- tions. He thought of the many women he had dealt with lightly, and he won- dered if any more of them would rise to threaten his security as a son-in- law of Pierpont Stafford. That very day the most pitiful of ad to Go an’ Wake Up.” his conquests appeared. Nell Tras) had learned from a newspaper tha her father had been knocked down by an automobile and taken to a hospital She visited him there. His bodily ir juries were not serious, but he wai brooding so bitterly over Freneau tha Nell bi n to fear for his reason. Hi told her that he had seen Freneai and denounced him, and Freneai | had struck him in the face, Old ‘Tras! was burnin to avenge it. He whis to 1 that he would react and strangle him like 1 both for her ow1 father and fc father of her deat | child. She thought of writing Freneat to warn him, but that might only leat him to persecute her father. Perhapt jit she begged him to marry her, ht would be rich enough now. She fount out Freneau’s address with little dit ficulty, and appeared at his door soot after Lois had left him, in an ugly mood. The apparition now of so hum ble an incident in his past as the daughter of a bargeman was too dis gusting to endure. When the valet opened Freneau’s door, Nell slipped past him and rar straight to Freneau. He could no even pretend the ordinary courtesies He would not listen to her. He or dered his valet to bundle her out an¢ to take his own two weeks’ notice. Nell had no more fight in her thar a violet. Like a violet, she bloomed to be trodden on or plucked for 4 | moment and tossed aside. She drifte¢ back to the shabby barge moored a! the dock and waited for her father te return “home.” Freneau, raging and calling himseli a fool, drove his arms into the over coat his man held for him and lef for his office, wondering whether he was to be compelled to close up tht office because of the follies he ha¢ committed. He agreed that flirtatior was a poor business. All this while Gloria lay in her bed by the window imagining that Freneat was pining away for her, while sht was getting well as fast as she coul¢ for him. Doctor Royce’s treatmen! consisted mainly in keeping out o: the way of nature, helping it, but no: impeding it with drugs. Gloria wat responding with all the rush of youth He was glad of his success as a physi cian, but he was miserable over het eagerness to get back to her romance Once, while he watched her as sh¢ slept, he saw that she smiled. He was afraid that he knew why. When her eyes opened and stared about het room and at him in bewilderment, he understood that she had come out of the dream realm. “Oh, such a wonderful dream I've had. I dreamed I was well—all of ¢ sudden I hopped out of bed, and—pres to, my clothes were on without all the trouble of buttons and hooks and eyes and I floated through the wall ané over the roofs and climbed down the chimney of Dick’s apartment house like a regular Santa Claus. “Then I came out through the steam radiator without even rumpling my frock, and there I found Dick so lone ly and forlorn as never was. When he saw me he nearly expired of joy. “Then I took him by the hand and floated with him through the wall and across the roof to the darlingest little church. The darlingest little minister floated through the pulpit and then— dog on it!—I had to go and wake up. But wasn’t it a beautiful dream?” “Beautiful,” groaned Doctor Royce. She was too happy to hear the sor- row in his voice. She merely ex: claimed: “Hurry up, for heaven's sake, and get me well.” And, like a dutiful young physician, he promised. But he wondered wheth- er it was kindness or not to restore her to the world where dreams do not often come true—unless they are. dreams. ona ~ (TO BE CONTINUED.) There is a species of butterfly in British Guiana which measures u inches from tip to tip of its wtigs, pered Freneau yet dog. She f