Evening Star Newspaper, March 7, 1926, Page 82

. 6 THE SUNDAY STAR One Cocker Spaniel Going North Gyp Was, Nevertheless, a Dog With a Fine Sense of Humor. IGUEL stond among suit | the hillside above you and the ocean |and down at the wicked burden under | brother, nice pork, nice chop. Nice|going through. And he lifted up his| * ‘number is 508,000," Mar- cases on the curve of the |below. Away from the sea the road |his arm. , | bellboy bringing it out.” « | voice and wept. tin protested. drive. Near him the car was | is smooth and dark. Ahead on the Sorry?” echped the girl in gray. At the door he looked back. “Is there a rhinoceros on the| The ofcer grinned reproachfully. waiting, long and low and | upgrades are mirages; ahead on the | “Why, it's the first thing that's hap. | “Good might, brother.” porch?” Martin asked, almost immedi- | “‘You can't get by with that,” said masterful with shining nickel | downgrades are auto camps. | pened in two week: But Gyp the Blood said nothing. ately, from the doorway. he. ‘Come and look.. By the, way, wings beside the motomete Gyp the Blood pointed his nose to-| She reached out a tentative hand [ At half past four the night clerk| Gyp the Blood shot an anguished | you're under arrest.” o Miguel was filled with pride in th rd the north while his great black | and pulled at Gyppie’s curls. And | knocked at Martin’s door. In the nar- | glance upward and returned to ihe| “For smugsling Chinamen? wings, with longing for the motometer, | €ars blew back in curis and banners. | Martin, dazed, looked down at her [row hall the night clerk appeared, [window. He shoved his nose against| “Uh-huh." with responsibility and with water- | Motoring interested Gyp the Blood. | hands, which were little and white and | round and bald and querulous. To|the glass and shook. Martin knelt| “Where are the Chinamen Loy He viewed the landscape tolerantly, | cool. Suddenly he realized that she | Martin's sleepy eves he looked rather |down and put an arm around the lit-| “Open the trunk, Pete ordered He lifted in the suit cases. There | standin, and silver, in his shin- | beautiful. like an upturned egs. tle figure. Together they looked out. | the man with the notebook. was a large, unopened hox of dog bis. | arness against the off-shore wind. | But the girl was looking up at him. .| “Your dog is howling,” said the|The court was deserted. Martin's car, |* Martin felt a_hand up cuit on the front seat. He sheok the | “You have two souls, brother,” said | “The little dog is so lovely,” she was | night clerk, gloomily. at the end of the orderly line, peace:| “What has happened hox gently and poked it vith a mysti- | Martin; “one in each eye.” | saving, reassuringly. “Every detail— | The lobby was darkened and desert- | fully waited for morning. | girl in gray. fied Mexican thumb. But at the slam | G¥D the Blood, thus addressed, | the blick roof of his mouth: the curl | ed: but outside, on the pale road, the [ Still, it seemed to them both that| Martin turped, bewildered, and for- | of 4 faroff screen door he sprang from | SWUng an indolent paw and glanced |on the end of his tail, and his whisk. cars went by, the fast cars that pre- | the night would never end. Martin | got the officer. For the girl in gray The running honrd and steod aside. back at Martin over his sturdy |ers. Have you managed to feel his |cede the dawn—a roar and then |slept heavily while Gyp the Blood |wasn't In gray at all this morning, serencly surveying the tops of remote | shoulde whiskers?” silence. Sometimes they came in [snuffed about from room to room. an | but in blue. g With his free hand Martin opened | Martin, groping under Gyppie's | 8rovns, sometimes singly, but they all |anxious little sentinel. Periodioally he | ‘C‘lelie,” said Martin, “Clelie Moore. | the box of dog biscuit. Gyp the Blood | chin, vaguely discovered whiskers. came fast. In the intermittent [ajloroached the window. Periodically | [ saw your name on the hotel register. D BTy e o en. AL | anxlously watched, ; He: preferyed the Gyp the Blood,” said Martin |Silences Martin could hear the loud, | he returned to Martin, to lick his ear | And I might have had you all one Wiavs, thought Miguel, he punches the | driver to drive, not to snatch about | uncertainly. uplifted voice of Gyp the Blood. and bite. his' nose, to wake him up, to| Sunday on the ranch. clock. Always the strip maps, the [Under the seat. Nevertheless, he po- | “Gyp the Blood,” repeated the girl| "My word,” exclaimed Martin, ap-|be sure he wad there. Martin could| “But you were In Portland,” said Wworried look. And plenty of money | litely accepted a biscuit, crunched, “I—I thought he would be.” | Preciatively. “He sounds like paper |have dispensed with it. But Gyp the | the girl in gray Tled ook, AN ey o er'Sy | meditated and blew back his eara. urred to Martin, after it was |bags exploding. Blood was on guard for the first time;| I was insane. 1 was upstairs, tall, so businéss-like—like a telegraph at cocker spaniels are stupid,” | ver, to be a little puzzled. But It sound like patrons exploding,” |naturally he overdid it a little. and you went away il Martin suggested after a long period | Gyp the Blood beside him in the car | $aid the night clerk. There wids cream for breakfast.| “You're Uncle Benny's nephew. 1 ihe suit cases are in cried | Of crunching and meditating. | only stirred gently and sighed a little. Martin entered the garage and felt | floating, lusclgus, olden. The tourists | knew—in the tea room. I recognized Mizuel, And the box, he, too, is in. | G¥D the Blood composedly watched | His ruffied paws were weary and so, (dimly along the side of the car. All [swam in it. “Even Gyp the Blood came | Gyp the Blood.” ST PR e the putting away of the delectable box. | logically, easily, he slept. Motoring | Sounds promptly ceased while an ava- [in for a little which he lapped delicate- | [ stopped at San Clalre to see 18 maybe for a dog?" Then, bereft, he gazed with sudden |no longer interested Gyp the Blood. |lanche of fur thrashed in welcome. |ly, in a genteél manner, from a table- | you » sald Martin. “I didn't see you. Your dog, Mr. Barbery” desperation at the empty ocean, the| Still, he thrust a drowsy face over X ok ok * spoon. They sallied forth contentedly. | T gtopped here last night, and you =, Mr. [empty roud, the dull and empty sky.|the side when they stopped for gas.|THE tourists of the San Claire | The ¢ar came to life and they were on | didn't come down for dinner. There v ‘uncle’s | And “then he ramped. His harness| “Pipe the hound,” said the : 3 cle's ; Lk . His harness gas man. the road again. s o waited, but M R A A e 8PS | jingled and his ears spun around like | “Hello, Strongheart Tavern slept serenely. The night | But ahead on the highway several | you et Ty Mig < 5 vbe. ‘Il‘gm‘,‘,?,_l“- eieshbecur;lercrigxso;‘ * % %k % clerk meditated, secure, behind his ;-ars werd dl:'a“t'n :;_r;‘xinusw together | ° “T yag asleep—-" A p and down, back and orth, e r n a smal not. ere was map . i |jounced and " singled, "ingled and | [T was while they were putting atr | (5, JRR SICRRCA AF e MEBnK | Wi 2 motebaok. There was « motor | by puv'a sot to fota AR jounced. in the tires that the girl in gray | against his hand. And through dawn, |cYcle policeman with a telegram. The | "Cjejie Jooked at him . In vain Martin thought of mileages; [ drove in. The girl had a closed car | on the road outside, the cars fled by, ' | Barbery ear, curious, swung into line | .« jaj» i : | in vain he noticed the weather and a \m}:‘hlm‘ good little dog appeared dimly | “In the Salinas Valley there fs wind, | behind the others. There were ar-| .That's what I'm tellin’ great purple streak of seaweed float- | Within it. | It has blow away and those |Fivals and departures. Cars were | ... i s E ing from the foot of the hills, Gyp the | “We had a town car in today,” the | i g ;Lf[‘hiy:"l:ln'\l\“i':x\g and those | cearched, checked off, dismissed. New | %21 h'[h"“:::'l‘;;;,“:"f.'r“'l‘n'm'm f od churned and gasped: he allowed | 548 man marveled. “A footman. Old | the center of the valley lies the|¢ars. crowding from the rear. were | “.p0 . "he foolish,” said Clelie sen S his tongue to dangle: he rumpled one | boy with two canes and a game lez. [<alinas River, the wide wash of | hemmed in. There was mild con-| o™ uywhat would he do that for?" et highway, hefore the | (WY ear over his head and glared | keeps the chauffeur down to 25 an|ihe white stones and polished sand. | fusion. “Ask elf, lady.” the police 3 D C ELF "ATE N hbound teaflie. ahead of the | from beneath it like a buccaneer un- The railroad follows the highroad | ice little crowd you sot toda R e he point. | BronANI) CONSIGNED HIMSELF TO FATE AND CALIFORNIA eouth-bound traffic, ah der a hat. o : : | said the man with the notebook, cheer. | shrugged. “You've missed the point. — = — - mouthbounl, Jalle Sane g t | through, through to the north and the | $aid th N | P i yego, Martin settled | Martin “believed in discipline, in | | sea and the green hills again. | fully, to three meager ladies in a tin | What is the point? 3 back. He even fished in pocket and | o AR o 2 bl e A L SR T ., The license plate.” said the officer. | small and o unnecessarily high, net | “I-1 don't like French chateaux. drew out Uncle Benny's telegram | | The trains blow and blow and eehq| The meager ladies. who were also | They approached the front of the | much freedom could be scen out of it | clatanastatec:® o1 ity seresnu fu iy .| In discipline for 15 minutes. Then, ‘One cocker spaniel, Gyp the Blood.” | (% 5 el s a ok e TR e i iGntyoi | ™ > el on bl 2 i ar ol e nirh "“mvlm “Shipped with his free hand, he searched under and echo. “There’s always a breeze in | €lderly. looked dismayed. One of | car where the license plate confronted The sunlight paused wly on | window 1 like sunlight. van Uncle Benny's telegtam, “Shibbed | the front seat and gave him another north. Benjamin Barber: et the Salinas Valley. New Jersey in frowned. This was his father's brother. the keen and crafty | | Tncle Benny, lured from Ch and points East by the promise of sun shine perpetual—Uncle Benny t the last minute distrusting Los Angeles, en Martin Barbery was coming down no,” said Martin, startled. *#Not dead—only in San Ah? sighed Miguel, arture. “You go up \v—not far; not Vancouver? Por > No trip? No fine No bandits? No forest fires? the North, carambal the mountains are GYP THE BLOOD GAZED UP EARNESTLY AT MARTIN AND DE- CIDED THAT THE WORLD WAS GOOD. THOUGH A LITTLE TOO “Hey,” cried the man with the note- | deserted. It must be near noon, |there is book, appearing from behind the car. | thought Martin. And then there was ‘T like grapefruft.” “The rear plate is what he said a muffled thud against the adobe wall| Martin looked up at her adoringly was!" and a jeweled hand ped the Little marquise,” said Martin, T 08,9007 in the window. knew you in the.tea room.” 08,9001 “Oh, Martin, I'm coming up,” said | “That was yesterday,” said Clelie 'he smugglers changed the front [a breathless voice and another hand |shocked. “Only a day one. But when——"" Martin looked at | reached for the har. The was a | A familiar_voice came from the foot p the Blood seated, unconcerned, |clambering sound outside and Clelie of the ladder. on the front seat. “At midnight,” | appeared at the window. She leaned T lady.” said the familiar voice ok ok % N The Salinas Valley is beautiful as| ~No. lady: we know vou can drive " was 1 o'clock in Santa Barbara, onl desert can be beautiful—an |52id the policeman, waving it asid and the Spanish court under its S alkall desert with now and then a|''What we want to know is, have you rust-colored awning was fashionably fervent strip of green alfalfa near a |80! any Chinese?” filled when the little party of one Bar- ranch-house. You pass white hills to | The dismayved ladies grew demoral- bery and one dog appeared in the whiter hills beyond. There is one |i2ed. I e nd ad his' tiakets. | 2dobe doorway. | v b great distant mountain that seemingly | Do You mean —opium?" asked the But the dog had already been sent. | “If you could leave your dog out- | you never pass. But by the time the "r‘!'\?r with great Dperspica ow. Martin had never met Uncle | Side,” suggested the manager, coming | afternoon breeze is threatening the No, lady,” said the policeman 1@ Marth Rt | SN et i pebndd b that ny. but he had heard rumors—the | forward gravely, with a smooth, fash- | roofs of the gpatient little cars ou | Patiently, 4 Smusggled over | said .f:l!}:n,“l nuzl| ully in the g the Y.mv.\ and smiled precipi h;.v ,.}\ 1y with ?1. thunder of Unele Benny's roliing mil. | ionable forehead and a smooth, fash- | find, looking back, that the mountain | the hi"‘""' % e it et i sly ¢ I “Good-bye.” whiliered Clelie. “But e the Jzastern hovizon: the |ionable voice which ran up and down | lies south. The Salinas Valley is done. | It Appeared that among them they | “You can't get by with that," re- = what there is so much | have to tell you price of Uncle Benny's town car; the | the scale perpetually in little waves of | Most people take it on the “second | D seven post cards of the main | P! glf‘l “r :0 ""r»\' 4 . P Do b ) L . - 111 take all my life e e e It vouidharaly thave sar 5 gl i day out.” They reach Salinas and |street at Tia Jua elie Moore,” Martin sighed. “this A'ladder. It's quite solid except Well, ain't_you got all your life B e ey ontll I | s Manelr e e volee b ot the Motor Inn about midafternoon, |missed and departed .| uninteresting man is going to put me |when it wabbles lady?" asked the volce below LD R S e b e i with ‘the dust of a hundred burning | The policeman turned to Martin's | in the pen. 2 : ‘I missed & month of ihis They've caught them ks in San ould have much more. He had | indefinitely around and around the | 7 i car and stared. Hurriedly he cor Tl take the dog.” sald Clelie | month demanded I'll let this fella out. Only s e Soumaior out ofine Wcocuat homs | % i i | pared his telezram with Martin's | Moore. g | 1 would have d o you gotta put the ladder back." Sady ofenoen O3 e judi. | Martin could ir asiibrADIY license plate. Hurriedly he drew a| “I remember this jail," sald Martin, | see ] O hush. 't ordeiem Clalls) “Mas e T e S ntoni rather large revolver, looked at it | wonderingly arling the ranch.™ | (i gid vou know that the old man i e Mehter wha | Way to Carmel | half-heartedly, and pointed it blankly fov explained the officer with- | promised M 1 n the tea room—the one with the B s ornnd & Hayeh e SWWe DEaTer motto ARiAIteEe e | at Martin. " out interest. “They come up on loca- | “You mustn't say ‘darlir Clelie | 1 o e R, A AN Sleed i S Chough to cOMe . voice added dispassionately. Drive over.” ordered the cop, | tion to pull the wild west stuff. It's | protested tely, “or I'll have to|gur Gyp the Blood . odd.” declared Martin, “for | climbing upon the running hoard | the county’s original jail ! notice it Let me tell you the news 1 ‘zuessed Unecle Benny there is a white Sealyham terrier be * ok ok ok | % ok { Tncreis lots and ota: T phoned Uncle | aven serencly. *“Towni cat - = one he fo . * iel i 2 clust ars dispersed T - | Benny id Gyppie ate an apple. 1'ncle e Coast Route. I who is our frowned gt the - Gt n yond the fountain with the girl in HE clustered cars dispersed. The || BFT alone, Martin pondered on e Sy RO DIE ab I*‘”,\u}v”’””l_ "oir | on the Coast Route. But who is ou il Sl ke o Il " SO course,” smiled the manager | man with the notebook rolled the | '~ correct course to pursue in any |ric of course.” “Clelie lnughed and'clambered down .__;“::u 1+ nam ke hers i dsnRrately. BBIEINIAE Por it s motor cycle to the side of the ,.(’"“"mll_lrnrlmnzl or unoriginal. It seemed | ) course.” said Martin Wi called Martin, “is Gyp the o ; fittla how to handle dogs. She shows them | et This througth traffic procesdad!through, | o1 satating. tace: & tie ol Herc | ronsy hand nung down against the 37 marg b woeled, clicking “h"""l;"h‘.”'_‘_“ country. Her dog is a B T slowly at first but with gradual,| Martin wondered if his cell door | foolishly. illogically, T W cheoh . slipt 5.5 g yoloL 3 hEY ot i e e . 7 t auickening speed until no one looked | could stand it. Tt looked unresisting | against’ it. Of the world Clelte: Moore French havd 1o remenit b ney, omy_ admit | champlons, | el back from the passinz cars, | and shaky enough to let him down| “Please. love me a litt said} Masths leated st the wall and forgel. Clelie Tike a b s shoul 4 it i I don’t unders said Martin. | suddenly into the passage outside. Fle | Martin e e T e emeraid Tike e et ., 4 Hil The policeman ad out his tele- | remembered actors with perfect pro. | lelie reached down her other hand oDet o the rode ot the coud _the Barbery i | ! Uil | gram files who strode toward cell windows |and patted the top of his head T e Hads lveh in S0ns. S Amuced, (he tesroorn st st o ot | : il Wi ““The license numbers are the same," | and pined. thus, gazing at freedom.| “A French chatean by o SR A i Sunday. She had pointed to the v : = wchoig . he explained, “990,803. But Martin's window was so very |lake,” said Martin blindly | i | the afternoon,” explain the dwellers of | them produced a driver's license from 'llu-m guiltily: 990,803, the wall. Outside, the highroad was| “I have—plenty of sunlight. All | | | They were dis- | by long-distance her the Bar: bery ranch, had smoked his pipe champion Of Chieago sreen her Martin surveyved the flagstones, upon one of which Gyp the Blood was solidly sitting. ‘We are in,” said Gyp the Blood's | rimson eve, “and we intend to re- | main." “I wouldn’t move, brother,” advised | rtin, looking down over the edge of | eir dull-blue metal table. “You're [ hitched. Your leash is under the | table leg. And, bLesides, yvou know, you're u gentleman and you've had | vour lunch.” " ¥p the Blood sat stodgily. He o er was sitting | 10W dog, and therefore at a disad- “Clelin T (Copyrisht Human Birds of Prey Make Monte Carlo Perilous to All Who Are Eligible to Wed BY GEORGE JOCELYN. | T isn't the money you lose at |- Monte {'ario,” remarked my 1, DM aitland Burns: is the friends you make val rapped in quiet: she had rung the bell: had pounded. in fact, like t parc post. while Martin_above smoked and frewned at the wall. Mig- | el thely upstair went s nstairs. with the uneasy news that the hoss was in Portland \ He was meet out of L. A nously that he w 1 ad gone way. But U nny would he difficult “HEY, LADY,” SAID THE FAMILIAR VOICE, “YOU CAN'T GET AWAY WITH THAT.” | hour so they're all mad. Seen him miles flung in their eyes. Then sud-| § { on the road? denly hefore them the Motor Inn,| “I saw him,” admitted Martin. “My | appears out of the very ground itself; | i dog here zave him the zame leg.” | the Motor Inn'where an open fire | You have a d - Martin el o | Three cars on the Coast route.|sglows all n nd where there is ? w“y ':’;‘";,[ ,!;',f .;my:”n m:v, ‘l‘\"" de f,",' | Other ca f course, but these three | cream for breakfast. For all the wind “The 11> shouted theibag- | e are the (locd slimphed amone ) g »\\I‘m: _q,lm‘,hv 5 s m the Sali s Valley seems unable to master o\ s shoul Saoridigs Tl Ll hite. | Wizerrylogs,” said the girl in gr: blow away the cows. r 4 GG S The pup in the trunk?" queried (30 the Blood, consigned for o in the second car, “are they coming| Then the cars stop and the people | i @ Montmartre cafe. She is a very i D e lonz to the outer darkness of flag- | yooon Will they stop at San Claire |stumble in, to unpack cold creams apd | Wealthy ~ American woman, full . of. N chl. et a|flones and feet, was nothing if not|ionight> Hold your ¢ " Merry. | boracic acld, to doze through whatever | 90ubt and great good sen weighing machine. And then Bill ap. | ASWte. = After careful peeriffg, the !jqpq and look at C of the day is loft. Very little is left I eXparTenoe: ’ Jeared ont of the void with a beauti. | pur resolved itself into a dog—a white, | "“pfree cars on the Coast route. In|usually, for the dark comes swiftly. | O She replied. i e e i retn: [furryidog st s being TedTBUNN.. [ oot s oda o ealth: o the & caokAt] THe Ean Blaapbiars BERIE e nien, tion. Or rience T had lid and a padlock. The typewritten | wyP the Blood did not stop to bark. | oriance: in the third, Gyp the Blood.| Martinturned the hotel register and | 2% V! Jose &€ Moute rombination of th K swing in | \ithout preliminaries, he started for- | ™% ™ ke “tap of the hills Martin | elanced’for a moment down the list of | arlo: 1 had atroclous luck st rot a green leather fol wove the ini. | v cirgoed, like a little tug convoy- | ooyiq discern the riding blur of Merry- | arrivals. Then he wrote Martin e o e e s o ik, @ : zstone and G d was fre My a, ranch,” sald Martin. | G. [T, Blood 'Cihiataa: of some one I know quite well. Sl ¥ knew 'it. e opened the padiock and | JUSION B T (e Flofl W 066, | And yours is an adventure, Yowte | Two rooms.” he ordered briefly. | {1, 5ie’ Jla dossnt deserve much| “A CHANCE CONVERSATION valsed tho lid. And there before them |, 'Gixtmerty chmoe. Around nd around | 19K S at that, is| “The garage is being painted, Mr.| \iliihy though, She is English| OF THE GAMING ROOMS OF - :;\:-"r(’::,I:n“eml';x....q was small and | the tearoom flew Gyp the Blood, lke e Blood regarded him, sad-{afrald: the tars -will Bave.to romain in | SNOUSR to be cold and old enough to| THE CASINO MAY TURN OUT warm ‘and eager. A cobweb hung | A7 animate rag in the path of a SUrong | gonod. wistful, understanding. Gyp [the court tonight. Its quite safe.| fro PRI O3 e he Y &4.| TO BE A STEP ON THE ROAD from his little gray chin. He gazed Martin Batliiy Shdis. g’lm,“‘";‘: the Blood was old in understanding. | There's no town nearer than Salinas | Sha parted with 100,000 francs or so. TO HELL. £ ahenly & Miriin decified after | nimber of ¥ rashibnable jiinnehers: | TO0 N8 VAEIGACE. L e Ao ra Mo - Martin, | PUE think of what she efcaped. Tittle too big, and consigned himeif | DUllblue chairs went down with regu ot o Ixactly. I could give you rooms| “She was playing in @ casino at to tate und Eattornia He folded nis |1ar bangs. And the girl in gray stood T the Tavern of San Claire, the|on the court so vou might keep an | Cannes one day, and the chap next to ti ’ s | ; ruffled paws praverfully across his | iN the midst of :hel SeEE memory of quality remains long —the clerk fuused “and looked | her Rot e Lo g’ i A @R Imuais ani Devcamyandy stess ‘“"f]“;J)“:“:»lm;":\"‘i‘m‘\" e this ety o i o s t ended at a little old gentleman in e : o 2 fou know how easily acquaintance- o and pretty soon I suspect- | terrupted by Mrs. Burns, who e ruffied chest. Expectantly. he pre- | ne doorway, The little oid gentleman |After the price is forgotten. Sver the cdge of the desk. There, at | o0 \C50, o7he gambling table. It v trusting and compassionate |d they were trying to inv imed: Sk i rented his stomach to the universe. |4 cap and two canes, and he ap- | “Of course, his dinner shall be taken | {00 end of his stout steel chain, was | {70, "¢ the ways you make those | friend. fecling her heart touched, gave [a ceremony with her. | | Do iy 00 kHOW: W Tealty And the three men knelt and scratched | DA% &, €O 816 two him, Just as |out to him. said the man at Bhel oHoe oo e o 4. A dog| terrible friends down at the Riviera. | him 30.000 francs and he walked away | perfectly determined not to he a fool.” casiest vietim of swindlere fod 5 ! pigeiod ']vnmm'hl ]‘"v'x' A emsual | Gyp the Blood was advancing like the | desk. “1 will arrange it myself—|was 5 dog but the Mator Inn's srame | He said he was an Austrian count, | with jewelry worth 70,000, | They entertained him so mizhly | The da A fabulously wealthy =il Shis myorlqemiled=avith ‘Gyp e figiaicaiwi | the Shomiestretol s towind | Ha tavier y onisvIsh ilitin i e it s iipped i Crpeniat Erabe | and they hecame quite friendly. The | “What did she escape?” I asked that one morning he “cam British’ peer.» .Shie Haks (he. moat o { the open door. 'l crash was the | “But he must stay in the B amipped In speclal crates | {nteresting part of it was that when| “That fs the most interesting part {his own words) in a church. The wed. | mantic tion " imaminable |littie old gentleman sked Martin, hopelessly e pearbery raneh. (50 the clerk. | che told me ahout it afterward T real- | of all.” she said. “This xame fellow [ding ceremony had jusi heen hell. |has a strong strain of tely 1 e v D o | Martin~ helped. him up_and un- | ““He must stay in the car." repeated | ized that I had heard of him swindied another woman last s [ H1e had marricd the mother s rectabiity. ool Btk see queer hills and strange mountains, | Wapped Gyppie's leash from the little | the man at the desk, inflexibly. ) 1l dog, Mr. Barbery?"| “Of course you will s ight off that | rich widow. He got into trouble with | left her at once.” he r‘;m me, | marri FFirst she ran away from Mhiere s il wheresithe xondibe: (1 IESNDEICAIS Macara Sdllng. (BN [ HEGU iivst dutay I (e can. & B f A Vieky " |he was a fake count. That fs what thefudlie aloat ey ¢ ok i e e Bty @ il viscount, and s a wool etie Alome! feo | him was ruin, confusion, explanations. | peated Martin as they drove toward [ “Wellhehaved?” v everybody thinks and that is wht the | to aci d he turned around and | 20_vears my senio eloped with an army captain whe had ot e e g e, e | Under his arm panted Gyp the Blood, e e 0fhenrieen e e ek | olice. thought until they investigated | foored them by showing that the in | They are still technically married, | fallen into <hads ways. Hor hushand B . | regarding him with a delighted eve. | Gy the Blood said nothing. of the chairs?” ¥ | him. He is quite genuine. Tt makes a y in question was his wife, | and he is still paving. orced and she married the | And Martin suddenly, insanely, wanted | “Now, about vour dinner.” Martin | “He is. like Caesar's wife, above|Strong point for him, because peaple mplicated the thing so much | to laugh. began, coming around for further in ." said Martin gravely. doubt his title right v, and atithe| that he got off. It was a neat trick. | But he didn't laugh. He walked |structions after the car was locked.| “Ah, Mr. Barbery, said the man.|proper moment he can prove it quite| When he saw the trouble ahead he seandal and disgrace, but the mother | back into the tearoom and stopped be- | “A pork chop?” v, emerging from an inner | impressively. forced her tc marry him. He was | 1ght him off and arranged a peace fore the girl in gray. Gyp the Blood said nothing. Voffice and peering banevelently over| “A real titie with so many fake ones | thoroughly afraid and buliied her so o Al d e e . “I'm sorry,” said Martin. “T have a setter,” Martin argued |the desk. “What have we here> Nice |around counts a lot. That, by the|desperateiy that she was frightened Spaniard turned out badlv. He was The girl in gray looked up at him lirresolutely. “He enjoys them. Think, |little doggie-woggie?" W points to one of the trickiest dan-[ and gave in. She hasn't seen him | worthless The mother bought him Gyp the Blood. thus admonished,|gers that woman travelers meet at the | more than once or twice since, and | \ off by seitling an income on him looked pained. fashionable watering places. Youhave | has got a divorce, but it has cost her The daughter has since married half A i vantavce in crowds. He saw only feet. | inz gum uy He had as yet missed the Sealyham ! | he had just returned to Paris from the Riviera and the tennis. tourna- ment, and we were sitting at a tuble are trucks on the coast route. are tourists and towns, oceans o captain. Then she left the captain for a Spaniard. The captain threatened i Martin. | | tiring. He had rooted angrily under ! “Do we get the room?” asked|no idea of what really distinguished|a pretty penny. . dozen successive husbands, all of “But of course you get the room, said the manager. ‘With the fall of dusk, Gyp the Blood slept, lying low and level on his hotel bed in his hotel room. He had investi- gated the carpet thoroughly before re-, the radiator, the bureau, the bed. | With paws against the sill he had| eered out of the window. But| throughout these exhaustive peram- bulations he had drooped, for he was very tired. And now he slept and| dreamed about Chicago; but not as other dogs might dream of other cities. He did not dream of bones, of scuffles with Alredales in areaways. He did not dream of dogs—he knew no dogs. He dreamed of November walks with Leon on the frosty §pave- ments along the lake: he dreamed of his green sweater for Spring and Fall, of his red sweater for Winter, of a library book he had once stolen from incapable old gentleman in a amer chair; he dreamed of glory and a kingdom, of triumphs past and still to come. * ok ok ¥ T midnight he stirred and woke as was customary, for midnight was the ideal hour for a little light indoor exercise, some scampering, a few muffled growls. At home there was a bedroom slipper ready to be hunted from corner to corner. Here there was no slipper but only silence and strangeness and the dark. And| the window. Gyp the Blood approached the win- dow gallantly and poked his ley nose beneath the shade. He gazed out at the parked cars in the quiet court, at the silver of highroad where the through traffic was in the process of antecedents the crooks often have and can prove.” She did not have to tell me that. T myself had run across a couple of in- teresting gentlemen of the sort. One is a professional cabaret singer, the only dance hall performer that I know of who s of truly illustrious lineage. He is the grandson of a royal duke and is perfectly worthles: He is thoroughly in funds now after having sw llldl?d thi daughter of an American multi n_\Il- lionaire who became infatuated with him. Then there is a particularly bril- liant lover, a chevalier and former military officer, who swindled the Mes. sina earthquake fund and later a great | war charity in London. Truly, there s a_subtler peril for a_woman in the crook who claims splendorous dignities and antecedents—and can prove ;. applauded Mrs. Burns' sagacious ob- servation and observed that she ought to write a thesis of warning on the sub- ject of the crook who is all he pretends d then some; and then broad- admirable essay to Wwomen who travel {o_the gentinental resorts. “I will,”” she replied, “but in the case of our pilfering count it wasn't merely the genuineness of his title that was persuasive. He is only thirty- four, but is perfectly dissipated and worn out. He looks to be fitty. His face is ghastly and ha@rd‘ his mouth droops weakly, his eyes are vacant. That all helps. You have heard of the woman playing the ro- mantic invalid. Well, why can't the man do the same? Our friend, the count, does He plays the lyrical part of the dying man. The scars of dissipation make him look as though he were truly desperately ill. Women alwdys like the pleasure of pity. I suppose it is something extraordinary and an elation to feel a man weaker tham yourself« Sosthe count borrows: “Now I am told that our count, having found marriage a good get. away in one case, is perfectly ready to try it again the next time he gets in a corner. My friend was too much afraid of a scandal to call out the po- lice on him. That was the lucky thing for her. Because I am sure that if she had got him {nto a mess he would | have tried some dodge to make her marry him. and she would have had | a rather disagreeahle adventure. She hasn’'t enough money to make him think of marriage ordinarily.” “You know, of course,” I comment. ed. “that crooks sometimes use the forced marriage as the central mech- anism of thelr schemes,' ““Of course, 1 don't.,” she protested pertly. “Do you think that I know all about crooks and their ways? What kind of company do you think I keep? 1 know only of the case I told you.” “That 18 too bad,” I said sadly. “Then you are not the one to write | that thesis of warning to women who | travel.” “I certainly am not.” And she raised her head defiantly “Very well,” I replied. “But you ‘won't be offended if I tell you another tale of marriage and crookery?" She gave a stately consent and T told her an instance in which the man was the matrimonial vietim. A rather weak but pleasant ac- quaintance of mine is a baronet who has a villa near Cannes. Some years | ago his eve was caught by a very pretty damsel and he paid marked po- liteness to her. Then he found that | she was a daughter of a woman who for 30 years had been notorious along | the Cote d'Azur “To be sure,” he drawled, when he told me the story, “I had no inten. tion :of ‘marreing the damsel in the them crooks. The word was around that any one who could marry the sentimental lady would be given an !income for life by the mother to be id of him. They are all after it. The | 1ast one i ard sharper who. with [the income that he got. has decided to play » and has retired from his | <windling. The woman is 40 now {but in a litde while the mother will |buy her out of some terrible marriage once again.’ “Very interesting.” 1 said. “but do |vou still think yon have not enough |information to ‘write that thesis of warning to women about the periis of fr ds vou meet along the Riviera? What is the use she sked 'hey wouldn't v any attention to the good advice.” Making Gold Leaf. LMOST the thinnest thing in the world is the gold-leaf lettering on books and memo pads. It is usu . lally only 1280000 of an inch in thickness. One ounce of gold will make gold-leaf 200 feet square. Taking a narrow gold bar 12 | inches in length, an inch broad. and | halt an inch thick, an expert work- {man rolls cut by hand a ribbon 825 | feet long. which he cuts into one- linch squares, says Popular Sclence Monthly. He then beats each square inch of gold until he spreads it over four square inches. Next, he cuts these four square inch pieces into one-inch squares and beats them for two hours. Each of the four squares is expanded o four times its original size. Now the | squares are divided and beaten - n hird me, A the ' - THE _TYPICAL TLEMAN | fiecs almost tnvisihie.1.540,000° of oy BRIGAND OF THE RIVIERA. !inch. 4