Evening Star Newspaper, June 8, 1924, Page 76

P ard As BY ROYAL BROWN The Cold, Calculating Mind Sometimes Produces the Results That Were Not Anticipated. LEVEN - THOUSAND - DOLLAR roadsters are smooth-running and luxurious affairs. Yet, even so, they nced a certain amount of oil if their bearings are to keep cool and collected, and of this Tucked D Witt was as well aware as he should be. evertheless, on this warm, sunny June moruing, when. working his way clear of the tangled trafiic of up- per New York, he settled himself down to an almost two-hundred-mile race against time, he gave as little heed to the matter of oil as the veri- est tyro might have. i The roadster, almost new, was one of eight cars he owned at that mo- ment, which gives an idea of his finaneial condition, and perhaps of his mental as well. This last Kitty Townsend had diag- nosed for him when, in March, she had returned to him the pledge of their engagement i “As near as I can discover. the | had said in her mooth and lovely voice. “your idea of an ideal married Dife is to have me always about ready to hand you a wrench when you need it. Thank you. Tuck, T don't care to play second fiddle to your horrid old motor: Exquisite is a word that fitted Kitty perfectly. And with reason. She had made it the keynote of her campaign and she stressed it cease- lessly—and exquisitely. “Your greatest asse bad assured her, “is vour air of dis- tinction. Society is full of young hoydens who are trying to beat men at their own games. Be aloof, dif- ferent—eternally feminine.” They talked things over together like that. They had a little money «nd @ social background of sorts. Dy making the t of both they had accomplished much. They talked Tuck with the s char “If we had money, T e title, of mother had admitted. But must have money. And Tuck has social tion. We can live abroad a lot— | he'll do anything for you, even that, if you manage hin So it had seemed. ning Tuck had Kitty's undeniable loveliness. She was so wonderfully, so—these da unbelievably feminine. Her beautiful hair was unbobbed. She did not ride horseback. She smoked. but as one who performs a pretty minine rite. She drank, but only famous vintages decorously served “And she's not—oh, was his final tribute “I hate his hand: marked. “They look chanic's” | | her mother over as coolly me eye for the main fer a for- surse,” her dp o we I'rom the begin- been blinded by hard as nai had re- a me- Kitty like “You can manage about that after you marry him,” her mother had as- sured her. nd he is charming in his way. Take my advice and take him!" And Kitty had taken him in December, only to shake him in March. THEY Westchester, gree and & o & had Leen motoring A dog of no pedi- manners had run out, snapped the front tires. Tuck had swerved to avoid hitting him and then he had smiled at Kitty, “Why didn't you run right him?” she had demanded. The smile had lingered in hLis cyes until he had realized that she actually meant it. He had recoiled. instinc ively, and she, as instinctively, had promptly pressed home a purely feminine point. “The way you swerved might have wrecked the car and killed me!” she had insisted. “Which only proves that you care more for a dog than for me.” And so on to the return of his ring —and the end of the world. It made little difference to Tuck what he did then. and so he went off with Preston Colt. Preston Colt had an in- satiable curiosity about unexplored places: at the moment the headwaters of the Amazon fascinated him. “I need a better mechanic than 1 can afford to hire to keep the scow I've chartered mov he had assur- ed Tuck. “We'll back by June and she'll kave plenty of time to miss ¥ou and be sorr; When Tuck returned to New York he found it had not worked out that way. “You look as if you'd had tropical fever,” one of his kind friends had assured him. “Are vou going to Kitty's wedding tomorrow?" had taken time to perco- ty! Marrying Leonard through less over be own apartment he smoked ¢, cigarette after cigarette. At half-past 9 he had put in a lane- distance call to her. ‘This is Miss Townsend,” came, at Jast, her cool voice. “It's me. Tuck, Kitty dear,” he had begun, “I—oh Kitty—you aren’t——"" From that point he floundered along, until she hung up on him. Thereupon he flopped into a chair. “Oh gosh!" he groaned. “I've messed things up worse than ever!” Yet Kitty, leaving the phone, wore an expression her mother could not fathom, “It was Tuck,” Kitty explained, and her mother’s eyes grew startled. “Kitty!” she gasped. “You aren't considering——" “Why not?” “But—the guests—the presents. can’t change vour mind now——" “I can be sick! I'm not an utter fool—I'm too much your daughter for that And she wus. Her dismissal of Tuck had been carefully calculated, eoolly planned. before the quarrel gave her the opportunity. Leonard Hood, with cven more millions and a better social position than Tuck of- fered, had lct his jaded eyes suggest things to her That he was much older had seemed to her of no moment. But now, with Tuck's impetuosities echoing in her ears and the memory of his boyish charm touching what heart she had. | she made a swift, impulsive decision. “The charming bride-elect is sud- denly indisposed,” she ascured her mother, “necessitating the temporary postponement of the ceremony You Of that Tuck had no inkling. He had paced the floor until dawn came. At that point the need of action be- came definite. He called up his ga- rage. Twenty minutes later he was on his way to the Berkshires, a mod- ern Lochinvar with a thoroughly modern steed. The miles whirled behind him. At 10 o'clock, without warning, the road- ster stopped. His nose, tardily, told him why. % % HE roadster had stopped almost abreast of a farmhéuse. Before this stood a car which bore the Im- print of its maker as unmistakably in ite lines as it did on the radiator. The owner of this lifted his head from under its hood and greeted him. “Out of gas™ he asked. “Worse than that,” Tuck assured him. “Bearings burned out. And say. does that machine of yours run? Tll zive you three hundred for it." The owner had expected two. “Make it three and a quarter,” the man said, automatically, “and——" “Done! Hitch a team to my car and lrag it into your barn. I'll pay for that later.’ “Sure!” €aid the other. He cast a cautious glance about and then pro- duced a-pint flask. “This” he an- nounced, “ain’t none of that bootleg stuff, but good corn whisky. Help yourself—and luck to you.” Tuck took a swallow. ‘I need it." he remarked, meaning luek. “Take it with you.” offered his bene- factor, meaning the whisky. “Plenty more where it came from! “The old boat has got a bit of life left in it at that” Tuck decided. “T wonder if it can beat forty.” In a-few minutes he discovered that it could actually turn out fifty or thereabouts. And that fact, allied rhaps with the swallow of whisky had taken on an empty stomach, made him feel pleasantly exhilarated. “I'll make it, all right.” he thought “Tess than thirty miles now " The next instant he jammed his brakes, made an ineffectual effort to swerve to the right, and then, amid + wild splintering. plunged through chaos into unconsciousness In a minute—so it seemed—he open- ed his eyes. Then he blinked rapidly. But the illusion remained. He was in bed, with the sun—bright, warm, be- nignant—streaming through dormer windows. He strove to fathom this mystery, and then. as memory flashed back to him, he started to get up. 4 advise you to stay where you suggested a cool, uncompromis- ing voice. “I've taken your clothes and hung them out to air. 1 only lope for your sake that no revenue officers use this road today Tuck turned. In the doorway stood a breech and booted figure that nevertheless was as feminine as the voice that had given him pause. “I remember hitting something.” he began, confusedly “Do you really? Her voice mocked him. 'm surprised. My chicken coop is pretty well demolished and so is vour car, but I have an idea you were too drunk to remember any- thing—-" “Drunk?” amazed “So drunk, escaped injury went on. Entering the room with swift, as- sured step, she crossed to a chair, picked up a flannel shirt and a pair of faded overalls and tossed them to the bed. are,’ he protested. utterly 1 should say, as to have altogether,” she “Now that you are feeling—better.” | she said, “you can put these on and start repairing the chicken coop.” Tuck stared at her incredulously. “One of us is crazy!” he assured her. I haven't a minute to lose. 1 —Great Scott! What time is it?" “Half-past nin “Half-past nine?’ he echoed and glanced about. “Why, it should be dark if it's as late as that—"' You've been here all night,” she explained. “I looked in last night and earlier this morning but you were still—uncongcious, shall we Kitty had oeen married. Tuck W utterly overwhelmed. A woman's in- tuition should have guessed that; a woman's eyes could hardly have look- ed upon him save with pity. But this vindictive voung female was implacable. “If you are handy with tools,” she said. “it will take you possibiy week to repair the damage you have done. In any event, between that and going to jail—" “Jail?" Tuck repeated. “In Massachusetts that's where they | are sending young men who insist upon operating automobiles when under the influence of liquor—" “But Great Scott!" he exploded, wasn't. 1 hadn't even had a drink— Except, that is, just one” he concluded. She shrugged skeptical shoulders. You can tell that to the judge if you prefer.” . “And, anyway, coop—" “Oh, no, you won't. Labor is one thing money won't buy these days. Not on a farm. If you're a reason- able young man you'll do exactly as I say. Think it over!” And there- upon she departed. After all, what difference did it make what he did or where he went! Life now stretched before him end- lessly, emptily. And so he dressed and descended to the kitchen. There he found his captor washing dishes. *x % x some men, in spite of a cool hardness about her, she might have seemed not unattractive. She was voung, straight and supple, and her bobbed hair was colorful, a warm chestnut with bronze glints in it. Tuck, however, assured himself he had seldom seen any girl so utterly devoid of charm. As he finishdd his coffee the telephnoe rang. He could not escape hearing her end of the conversation. “Absolutely no!" she said. said that before and I mean i “ Aregular little Tartar—hard as nails!” Tuck decided. Prom the telephone she turned to him. I'll pay for the ‘“T've “There's some lumber stored in the barn. I'll show you where it is and you can start work at once.” His first glimpse of the damage he had wrought had startled him. Then immediately it became a challenge. At noon, when she went to summon him to dinner, he had made famous progress. She noted that, but all she said was: “Dinner is ready. And don't pay any attention to Clem, please. e is very faithful and true, but he is half-witted. Just now he resents you and is inclined to be sus- picious.” Of the latter there could be do doubt. The loose-jointed, leathey- faced hired man gave Tuck a furtive, bristling glance. “Clem!” said his mistress sharply. The effect was magical. “Haw!" muttered Clem, and subsided. “She’d make a darn good animal trainer,” thought Tuck. “I wonder how she gets that way! | 1f, when Ann Duncan twenty, her father had not surrendered to the sophistry that suicide was the only solution of the mess he had made of his life, Ann at twenty-four would not have been as she w She and her brother Bobby, who was five years younger, were already motherless. Bobby must continue in school and then go to Yale. That was absolutely final. But how? While the problem still pressed, an abandoned farm and a still more abandoned real estate agent had sug- gested possibilities. So here she was, an abandoned farmeretta 1If she had been less determined of spirit she would have quit long ago. Instead, she had made herself a match for the men she dealt with and she drove-as hard bargains as they did. As for the rest—well, Bobby was in Yale anyway. To Some that might have seemed a poor return for all her effort. Tuek returned to the reconstruc- tion of the chicken coop promptly, working the afternoon through, paus- | ing only to fill his pipe now and then, or take @ trip to the kitchen for a | glass of water. On one such trip, he surprised Ann about to take a kettle of water from the stove. And was surprised in turn because she | naa discarded her khaki and wore what seemed to be an ancient eve- ning cape. This had once been a magnificent shade of green of some material both soft and rich, and there were still bands of dusky fur at the wrists and collars. Now, apparently, she used it as a bathrobe. “Please don't bother,’ she com- manded as he sprang automatically | to relieve her. “I'm used to waiting on myself. Yet even as she squelched Tuck she turned back to him. “But there is one thing you can do for me,” she said. “You can give me your prom- ise to stay here and help Clem until 1 get back—— til you get back?” he echged. ve got to g0 to New Haven. My brother is at Yale and I'm afraid that he is—sick. Clem will take the milk to the station as usual, but he must have some help. Can you milk a cow?" Tuck—before whom life stretcned emptily and endlessly—actually grin- ned “I've never had any experience, but I might be able to achieve the art" “It's simple enough, if you don't irritate the cow- “I'll try not to,” sald Tuck meekly. “Thank you. I'll see that you are properly paid, of course.” “And anyway it will be much better | than being sent to jail,” he reminded her. And then. remembering her brother, he added hastily—being Tuck: “I didn't mean to rub it in— {of course I'll be glad to do whatever 11 can.” In a moment of less stress she might have pondered that As it was she bathed, dressed and departed, all within the hour. “Don’t try to talk to Clem—it just { | A —— /7 s rrriam—= ///// - EXQUISITE WAS A WORD THAT FITTED KITTY PERFECTLY. was flanked by bookshelves. Over this dimly luminous in the half light hovering beyond the lamp's shaded radiance, hung a portrait in oil. This was very good, though his surprise at that was submerged in a greater surprise, for it pictured a beautiful, smiling woman in a formal gown with train—English court dress, he thought. Then, suddenly, it recalled Kitty to him—not that he had forgotten her, of cou and abruptly he turned away. Then he thought of Ann as she had looked when departing. “She can look darn attractive when she wants to.” “Haw!" said a voice behind him. | , They supped together, in silence. 1And then, Clem went to bed while Tuck, who would have been wise to do likewise, returned to the library. Presently the clock on the mantel began to strike. He glanced up. Elght o'clock. Last night at this time—no, two nights before at this time—he had just finished talking to Kitty. She was yet to be married then. Now— “It would have been better had smashed myself up as thoroughly as 1.did that old flivver,” he decided The first rays of dawn were light- ing the east as he and Clem finished breakfast. And the last glow of sun- set was still streaking the west when he fell into his bed that night. He knew then why folks on a farm go to bed early. “I hope,” he thought, “that Clem will oversleep in the mornming. I'm darned sure I will—that little red Jersey sure has a mean disposition. 1— wonder — just what —she has— against—me." i That was his last waking thought: the thought which should have been consecrated to Kitty. EspeciaHy as she, at that precise moment, was thinking of him—and with deep emo- tion, too. “T trust,” her mother was raging. “that you are satisfied. Everybody is talking. They know that Tuck talked | to you over the phone, and if you think Leonard Hood can be treated this way—" “Oh, shut up!" filially. But she realized she had been fool- ish. She had counted on Tuck's rush- ing to her, making any and all con- cessions to regain her. She won- dered where he could have gone to. At the headquarters of the Amazon Tuck had not been able to forget Kitty. But at the heagquarters of the Amazon there hadn't been twenty cows and a chicken coop. Of course, he hadm't forgotten Kitty. Impossible! But there were moments when she—well, slipped from his mind. His activities seem- ed to him terrific The moment one thing was finished, something else clamored to be done. only hope.” he thought, “that I won't be as half-witted as Clem by the time the young ogTess returns.” * x5 x ¥ SOUND caused him to turn. In the sunlit doorway of the Cow- shed stood a dog such as may be seen almost anywhere save at a dog show. Now he stood, one forepaw uplift- ed. poised for flight should that prove advisable. But his ridiculous tail apd his floppy cars broadeasted hope and good will. “Please. sir." queried his tail, you willing to boss me around? Then, caatlion to the winds, he flung himself upen Tuck. And that was not because Tuck had eight automo- biles and at least as many millions. Or even because he looked kind. In fact, he looked Jike a pirate, for he had not shaved%ince he arrived. Yet the dog knew! “Well, did you come from?>’ The dog was obviously half starved. “T've got an idea,” Tuck went on, in exactly the tone and manner every dog dreams of, “that you care more for milk than I do. How about it?” “Anything,” the dog replied—ob- snapped Kitty un- “are “Where confuses him,” she advised Tuck. “He'll manage to make you under- stand what he wants done. He'll pre- pare supper as soon as he comes back from the station and then he'll £0 to bed. If you care to use it, the library is at your service.” Xk % % ‘HE soft dusk swallowed her up, an engine whirred off and he was alone. He hesitated, and then turned to the library. This he had noticed be- fore. spite of its shabbiness. ~ The great old fireplace with its MacIntyre mantel ‘The room had impressed him In] it 1 | breaking in on this, 7% IT WAS ANN WHO REACHED THE ROAD FIRST. viously, me.” “Let's go to it, then,” suggested Tuck. “I don’t know what the lady who runs tho place would say about it, but we should worry—she's away until farther notice.” But she wasn't. She was talking over the telephome in the kitchen. “You can have the pair of them for four hundred dollars—cash,” she was savi “I must have the money at “that pleases you pleases Then she hung up the receiver and, turning, saw him. “I—I didn't know you back,” he said inanely. “And I brought the dog in. He's hungry. Do you mind if I give him something to eat?” “Of course not,” she assured him. Yet he felt a swift anger against her. She had barely glanced at the dog. He could not understand how any woman could be so utterly de- void. of sympathy. “Thanks,” he said and hoped she'd catch the sarcasm But she missed it altogether. She had already changed back to her masculine gear. As Tuck poured some milk into a saucer she moved swiftly about the kitchen. She look- ed pale and very tired. When she suddenly turned to him he noticed the lilac shadows under her eves. “I should have told you at once how much 1 appreciate your staying and helping. Please forgive me. I've had a hard trip and—many things to think of.” “Your brother"—Tuck wondered suddenly if in his interest in the dog he had not seemed unsympathetio to her. “Did you find him very il?” “Not ver: she said, her lips tight- ening. Tuck stared as she turned away. “Good Lord,” he thought. “Does she resent his sending fér her for any- thing less than a deathbed scene?" Later he was to be still more puz- zled when he came suddenly upon Clem standing before a silver framed picture which Tuck had noticed and which he had guessed was of Bobby. “Haw Clem exclalmed, and then shook his fist violently at the picture. “Everybody is a little bit crazy here,” murmured Tuck. “I'll be slip- ping nmext, Joseph, old top.” Joseph was his new friend. Then abruptly, “By George.” he thought, “I'll bet a hat Bobby, has gotten himsSelf into a scrape.” He had been to Yale himself. Besides, that wouid explain the mystery—Ann's return and the sale of two valuable rows, Clem's panto- mimic assault upon Bobby’s picture “Well,” Tuck decided, finally and wisely, “it's none of my business any- way.” Nevertheless, when he came into the kitchen just before supper he did study Ann with quickened interest. “By the way,” she remarked, T'll not hold you here longer, of course. The destruc- tion of the chicken coop did seem wanton and inexcusable at that time, and 1 was determined to make you fix it. But I imagine I may have been unfair. Your family and friends—" “I'm going to finish the chicken coop or bust” Tuck cut in forth- rightly. “As for family and friends, I haven't much of the first, and I imagine the rest are busy with their own affairs. I " There he paused, his nice young mouth tightening as he thought of Kitty. As for Ann, she gave him a quick glance but said nothing. had come “I really might as well be here as anywhere,” Tuck finished. *That is, if T earn my board and Joseph's.” “Of course you do," she agreed, al- most warmly. “In fact, if you really want to stay I'll pay—" “Wait until I finish the chicken coop before we talk about that.” he protested. Now, she might have wondered about that. But actually she was too tired, and such thought as she had was for Eobb “How could he!" she still wonder- ed. “If he only realized!” Tuck wondered, too. “I'd as Soon suspect 4 marble statue of tears,” ran his thought. “But she dM 100k as if she had been crying. 1 might drop a line to Bill. It there is anything wrong with Bobby he can help a pile.” * % % THE letter roommate to Bill. who had been a of Tuck’s at Yale and was now an instructor, went out on the morning 'mail Sunday came the sixth day of his stay at Forty Acres. Clem shaved before breakfast, Tuck after. As he re-entered the kitchen Ann gave him a quick glance—this was the first time she had seen him so. “l hardly knew you,” fessed. thought it about time to renew old acquaintance with myself,” he laughed. When the mail came Monday Tuck was rendering first aid to the motor truck. “Do you, by any chance, know any- thing about motors?” Ann had ask- ed Tuck after breakfast. “Why—a little,” he had answered. “The garage man said the truck ought to be overhauled. 1 suppose it had, but T couldn't spare it for four days—" “If he said four days PNl have it ready for you in four hours,” inter- rupted Tuck. This had seemed to her highly un- likely. But Tuck was a genius at such things, and there is never any mistaking those who possess genius. When he started operations she hov- ered about like a worried mother with an ailing child, handing this tool or that as he requested it The picture they made this warm June morning suggested indeed that which Kitty had conjured as Tuck's idea of an ideal marriage—a woman to wait upon him the while he de- voted himself to his only real love. Presently Tuck cranked the car. The response was immediate. The truck shook and so did the shed. You've fixed it!” Ann paeaned, and her voice for once was warm and happy. “I'm so glad. Why, it seems to be going better than it has for a long time—-" “I'll say it is!™ he retorted. There's the mail carrier,” she re- marked, and went to meet him. Tuck was still eying the truck proprietorily when she returned. “A letter for you,” she said Tuck saw it was from New Haven. He mummured an excuse, and. open- ing it, found that. as he expected, it was from Bill, “The info.” began Bill, the English instructor, relapsing into the lingo of a roommate, “that your royal high- ness craves was not hard to get. The old campus rather rings with it. The young man, a sprightly and engaging youth, had the bad luck to lose at [ various games of chance and the ex- ceedingly bad taste to proffer a bad check in payment. He was perilously near to being canned when his sister, rather a charmer, do you know her? —saw the dean and wooed him to a | sweeter mood. T, keeping in the well- known background, have nevertheless asked various undergraduates whose word, even to the young and foolish. carries weight, to talk to Bobby as he should be talked to. They'll keep an eye on him, so requiescat in pace. He's been traveling with the wrong crowd—that's all.” But the real kick came in the next paragraph. “Now that I have eased your mind,” ithis ran, “please ease mine. What's all this T hear about Kitty Townsend throwing her elderly bridegroom- elect overboard the moment she heard your sweet and persmasive voice over the phone? Society Notes | has a paragraph on it, but I want to |hear your side. What next?* This'left Tuck almost dizzy. It was too big to take in all in a minute. He struggled with it, until suddenly he redlized that Ann had spoken. “Not bad news, 1 hope,” she re- peated. “No,” he replied, confusedly. *Not bad news, but I'm afraid I must go at once. If I can be driven to the station—" “I'll have Clem drive you over as soon as you are ready.” For a mo- ment it seemed as if she would say no more. Then: “And—I'm sorry to have you go. And very grateful for all you've dome. Of course, I intend to pay you—" 3 “That wea't. be necessary,” he pro- tested. “T've emjoyed it, really. And she con- Pm sorry, tee, te ge.” He wondered if he might drop a re- [had turned back to Ann. As assaring hint about Bobby. “I—" he began, uncertainly. He got no further. Joseph shot by them barking furiously. A heavy roadster had come into sight. At it Joseph flung himself, with all the ardor of a Don Quixote. “Ome of these days he'll get over,” remarked Ann. imagine that wouldn't bother you very much,” he suggested. To Tuck, her remark had come like a dash of cold water, reminding him of what she was—hard as nails! Ann looked up at him, wide. Thej “Why should it?” she demanded Before he could answer there came an agonized shriek from the road. * x % T was Ann who reached the road firsl. Sinking to her knees, st drew Joseph to her and ran swift. intuitive fingers over him while he pitifully strove to lap her hand with his tongue. “I think there’s she babbled. “But hurt internally they—" This Tuck, way turned ster's driver. “I£7 the teach your ners—- “I" proposed Tuck, “intend to teach you better manners right now—" Instead. he stopped short, incredu- lous of eyes. “Kitty!” he gasped. And Kitty it was. Kitty as exquisite as ever, as ideally feminine. Seated beside the driver, whom he now rec- run ed nothing broken,” I'm afraid he's Oh, how could hot with anger, straight- to demand of the road- began, better stranger mongrel man- What on earth——" There she bit her lip. Involuntarily her eyes grew calculating and for an instant it was as if Tuck saw to her very soul, saw it—hard as nails! As she caught his change in expression. she sensed her mistake. Yet as ever she was quick to retrieve the situa- tion; she knew now on which side her bread was buttered. “Please drive on, Leonard dear. placing beautifully gloved fingers over her fiance’s. T think it served that awful creature perfectly right, and I'm glad you taught him a lesson. So sorry.” she assured Tuck, “that I can't stop to be introduced to your friend. She looks so—unusual.” Tuck did not even hear her. He looked up he saw that tears glittercd on her lashes. “Why, Ann™ he cried. “J had i+ idea that you cared so—foransthing' ™ “I don’t dare—care much for am thing.,” she said. “But I—I can't beur to see anything hurt, How could she be so heartless! But perhaps 1 shouldn’t say that. She's a friend of yours— ‘She was amended Tuck He dropped to his knee beside her and ran his fingers over the quivering Joseph Feel any better, old top? Joseph wagged a feeble tail “Let's carry him the house she suggested. In the kitchen he held the basin of hot water while bathed Joseph And it was Tuck who now studied he: as she workeq, absorbed. H ery tenet of his older creed s as not feminine. Yet if to be fen in to be brave und true and lovely—for so he suddenly saw her tender to suffering and utterly unse fisk, ove into then feminine was think he'll be all right in a day she said. “Sore but inserted Tuck. “I wasi You believe me, don't you? “I think.” she confessed, “that 1 misjudged you—iots of ways. 1 tad learned to trust nobods and—but vour letter! I had forgotten you were in a burry. T hope this hasn't delaycd you too much!" Tuck had forgotten his letter, toc New, as he remembered, Le hesitated Then suddenly he drew a breath so deep that Joseph rolled his eves up ot him and feebly wagzed hus tail 'd rather stay awhile. If you don( mind, that What do vou Clem?" “Forty a month——" “Am I worth as much as that 2" One might have wondersd if he i forgotten that he was worth, actualiy eight millions. He h: absolutaly. “Much more,” she with knowledge of the mi! “If vou really want to stay—— ‘There she stopped short. Clem had come in. He looked at Tuck then & Ann “Ha’ he said. And then, curiously enough, ! grinned—slowly, expansively. But of course he was half-witted—thouxh perhaps not so terribly half-witted at that! (Copyright, 1924.) WOMEN AT CONVENTIONS HE age-old proverb which likens the tongues of many women to the cackle of geese will be given the acid test -at the national political conventions. this year. For the women will be there. The largest two gatherings of women in old-line party conventions this coun- try ever has seen occur both in the same summer. For the women will be there. The largest two gatherings of women in old-line party conventions this country has ever seen occur both in the same summer. . It will be the first showing of wom- en in large numbers in a national convention since suffrage became a law. Upon the number of women present and the power they wield will depend the interpretation the nation will place upon women's activity in politics. It is expected that 1,000 women will be at the Cleveland convention, be- tween 400 and 500 of whom will be present in an official capacity. Ap- proximately 125 of these women will be duly elected Republican delegates at large and district delegates, with equal voting power with the men. The Democrats are sending a some- what larger delegation of women to the New York convention. Accord- ing to Mrs. Emily Newell Blair, vice chairman of the Democratic national committee, there will be 1.000 Demo- cratic women present at the conven- tion in an official capacity. More than 500 of these will be all-powerful delegates at large, district delegates and altermates. In addition to delegates and alter- Dates there will be associate mem- bers of the national committees and members of the national executive committees, ushers and sergeant:-at- arms, together with a hundred or more newspaper women and maga- zine writers, there to cover the big- gest story of the year—women in a national political convention. Then there will be women at the conventions who will not be dele- gates, but who will have influence with the delegates, because they are carnestly interested in the election. There will be groups working for certain planks of particular interest to woman voters, such as education, child labor, prohibition, equal rights, peace, etc. These women will go first after the key men, and then they will go after the woman delegates. Interest will center at the Demo- eratic national conventiom m how b | Columbia University: Mrs. many women are placed upon the portant convention committee: Mre Franklin D. Roosevelt of New York has been named chairman of a wom an’s advisory committee to pass upor planks offered by women's Organiza tions on social and welfare legislu tion to be incorporated in the n tional party platforms. This impor tant committee will have member from women's organizations women of nationmal reputation in = cial legislation and welfare work Mrs. Roosevelt has already named a few women to the committee. ir cluding Mrs. Kate Trenholm Abrams Washington, D. ¢ Jane Addam: Hull House, Chicago: Mrs. Sara A Conboy, United Textile Workers o America, New York; Mrs. W. S. Jen- . Jacksonville, Fla.; Miss Olive National Education Associa tion, Washington: Miss Mary Mc Dowell, Department of Child Welf: Chicage Henry Morgentha New York:; Mrs. Henry Moskowitz | New York; Mrs. Percy V. Penny- backer, Austin, Tex.: Miss Caroline Ruutz-Rees, Greenwich, Conn.; Miss M. Carey Thomas, Bryn Mawr Col lege; Miss Lillian D. Wald. Henry Street Settlement, New York; Mre Caroline B. Wittpen. Jersey City N. 3 Many nationally known women arc found in the list attending the con vention in Cleveland. Among these are Mrs. Nicholas Longworth, Mrs. Mabel Walker Will brandt, assistant attorney general Mrs. Bessie Parker Bruggeman, Miss Sara Schuyler Butler, vice chairman of the Republican state committee of New York and daughter of Dr. Nicholas Murray Butler, president of Charl Sumner Bird of Massachusetts, Mrs Charles H. Sabin of New York, Miss Helen Varick Boswell of New York. Mrs. Jeannette A. Hyde of Sait Lake City, Mrs. Medill McCormick of Chi- cago, Mrs. Christina Bradely South of Kentucky, Mra Douglas Robinson of New York, Mrs. Arthur L. Livermore of New York, Mrs. Barclay H. War- burton of Philadelphia and Mrs Louise M. Dodson of Des Moines, Towa. If the precedent established fn 1820 of having women deliver seconding speeches when candidates are placed in nomination is followed, there should be a large number of woman speakers before the conventions. Both the Democratic and Republicag con- ventions in 1920 heard seconding speeches by a number of - distine gulshed women.