Evening Star Newspaper, September 29, 1929, Page 112

T A A T R ST ARSI { | 3 H Meet Mr. and Mrs. Bisbhee and the Princess, and You Will Never Forget 1 hem. This Is One of the Year’s Best Storiecs—One of the O. Henry Memorial Azward Selections—Written by an Author Well Known to Americans. 'HE genial young clerk at the mail win- Jow of the hotel glanced at the badge on Mr. Bisbee’s coat and at the card bearing his forwarding address. “Then you're leaving us before the end of the convention, Mr. Bisbee?” he re- marked in a tone of polite regret. “Yes,” Mr. Bisbee replied. “We've got through eour important business, and I can't hang around till Saturday just for the pleasure of riding back on the special. I'm a busy man” He raised his chest slightly and thrust down his chin, making a little pouch of it between the pointed wings of his collar. “Where you going, Bisbee?” The shout came from Mr. Sackett of the Sackett Thompson Co. “Been counting on a talk with you going home.” “My loss, Mr. Sackett, my loss, I'm sure.” He liked to be called “Bisbee” by Mr. Sackett, a dignified and responsible merchant, whese badge showed him to be vice president of the National Retail Silverware and Jewelry Asso- ciation of America. “When my friends urged me to wait over,” * he continued as they stood in the warm sun- light beside the taxicab, “I said I had to go on account of important business, but I don’t mind telling you that there isn’t any particular busi- ness taking me. I'm in a position to do pretty much as I please; my right-hand man, Charley Dcegler, runs the store first-rate;but when I founded the business, nearly 26 years ago, I laid down the policy that I wouldn’t ask any employe to do what I wouldn't do myself. They get two weeks’ vacation every Summer, so that's all I take.” “Good sound policy,” commented Mr. Sackett. “Im glad to hear you say so,” said Mr. Bis- bee shaking hands before stepping into the “The approval of a merchant of your etandlng and experience is all the more grati- fying because, as a matter of fact, there's been some opposition to my policy.” A opposition of which he spoke was not, as his auditor may have supposed, commer- cial, but domestic; as -he drove toward the sta- tion he recalled moumtully his last altercation on the subject with his wife and his daughter Pauline. - For some time they had been mulu athlm\ohkethemabrotd eonbendlnlt«hlt : : mthuechysltmudlscmemlnottohave een ‘abroad as not to own a motor, and his mtement thn his two weeks’ vacation policy made such & trip lml”“me “"Y m“’“"“‘ M]bfllhedlllde mmu,"hhwifemwld him scorn- fully, “you don't want 0 go_anywhere except ’_bmdudlyeonvenuom If you'd go to & . place like Paris and look around & lttl youd find out why poopn like the ll\m:hhom ‘and the Rathbones don’t trade with you.” . Her mention of the Murchisons and O.he Rath- bones, the city's most important families, acted as'a red rag upon whatever bull-like qunllfies mhvebeweontdnedlnur msbeesna- ture, me _tell, you. Stella,” he replied, deeply movl:: “flthosembohshulmeloalpm they'd ol(ht to have, they would trade with me.” Oh. forget it!”. Mrs. Bisbee gave a wklng huch “Yowll never get ‘their trade, my little man. You're always telling folks this town'’s plenty good enough for you, and you never _ spoke a truer word, You're a suck-m-the-mud . that's what you zre—just a plain suek-m-!hc- mud!” At intervals in their 23 years of mmed life Mr. Bisbee had been struck with nmnement. at his wife’s faculty for completely ‘misinderstand-" ing him, but never before had she made & charge so stupefying. Stick-in-the-mud! He, of all people, a stick-in-the-mud! He, whom the Daily Sentinel had mentioned among the city’s captains of industry, the largest retail silverware and jewelry merchant in the South- of the State! e.fiun: l;.unnch Mr. Bisbee went io the rear of the train and, finding the observation platform crowded, kept close watch and was first to the door when presently a seat was vacated. .. The empty place was between an old gentle- man wearing a round felt hat and a lady whose chair stood in the shelteréd corner. Had he been asked to describe her, he might have said that, without resembling her, she made him think of & younger, h;ndaomet edition of Mrs. Emory Rathbone, and Mrs. Emory Rathbone, be it noted, was famous in her youth as one of the ‘beautiful Perry girls of Cleveland. Such an association would have sufficed to make him faintly fearful of this lady, even if he had not glimpsed, as he approached, a neck- face, evidently not intended to be seen. If the pearls, as at first glance they appeared to be, were ‘genuine, the necklace was of fabulous galue, and the faet that she concealed it be- neath her dress lent color to this theory. HAVING settled himself in his chair, he took freom his pocket the patent Protecto spec- tacles he always carried when traveling, wa folded them and put them on. Pregenuy, Jne old man in the round felt hat lighted a cigar, and the fragrance of it made Mr. Bisbee wish to smoke. He drew from his pocket one of his favorite panetelas, amputated the end with his flat gold cigar-cutter and was about to light it when he observed that a back-draft was caus- ing the smoke of the old man’s cigar to eddy in the corner where th> lady sat. He hesitated, then reluctantly returned the panetela to his pocket; but at this the lady turned and ad- dressed him, saying: “If you wish to smoke, it will not in the least trouble me.” “Thank you, madam,” he replied. Then he saw that sh> was leaning forward, evidently in pain, rubbing her eye with her handkerchief. “Don’t rub it,” he admonished sharply. “If you'll let me look at it, madam, perhaps I can help you.” She turned blindly toward him, and he slipped off his gloves, lifted the lid by the long lashes and examined the eye. “Look down toward your nose.” And as sl did so: ' “Yes, I see it. Just a minute now— hold still. Give mé your handkerchief. No, it’s too soft; I'll have to use mine if you don't mind.” “Please do.” “I always carry a fresh one,” he said, brush- ing at the eyeball with the point of the hem. “There, it’s out.” She moved her eyelid up and down, doubt- fully. “The irritation will go away,” he assured her, “You are a doctor?” she asked. “No, as a matter of fact I'm in the retail silverware and jewelry business; we have an optical department in our store, people come in when things blow into their eyes. We're the third fastest-growing city in the State, so we have a good deal of manufacturing and cinders.” “Many of your American cities seem to hue manufacturing and cinders,” she remarked. “You're a foreigner?” “Yes.” “Well,” he said, "we ve cot a crent eountw here T‘heres no place under the sun that's a p.teh on i, I tuess I've never been abroad myself, but that's ‘what my friends tell me.” And as the lady did not, answer, but only smiled hlntly, he went on: “I guess the people oyer in !nchnd kind of wish we hadn’t broken nuy > (rom them in l'l'lc dont they?" it 7 “Y never hurd an !:n;llsh person dhcuu u » “Oh, you afen’t mllsh°" She shook het As he was’ abolit’ to inquire what her nagive | torigue was, hé was distracted by “seeing her nlae her' htpdk«chtef to her. eye ; “Excuse me, madam,” but I wouldn‘t rub it,» he said’ huickly. 3 g "No I jult wnnt to shlelg lt ki : Wby " he exclayned o | dont know wh.t on ““earth Y could_of been t.hlnkmg of! Here I've _g0t_these Pmtécw spectacles rl:ht on my, nose, . and’ theyre ‘the very thing you ,need!”, He hqsul’ removed them and exhlmed them to y An excqllept mlcle for tnvel. ,The deep ; beve{ed rgms protect, the eyes from foreign sub- . . stances and the tinted lenses, relieve eye-strain, ", Just try them opn, madun “They are,very. éo-nforung she dechred having put them on.. “I am.most grateful, “but y I=2 _“The_pleasure k all mine, madam, all 'mine. » He gave her a ceremonious little bow and-in obedience to a polite instinct which told him that a gentleman who has handled a lady’s eye and given her a pair of spectacles ought to in- troduce . himself, he took from . his pigskin pocketbook & neatly engraved business card and gave it to her. ~ . : | “Ah, yes.” She glanced at the card, nodded, and tucked it into her black handbag, but she did not mention her name or offer him her card in return. ON his westwud joumey a mendly flasm:m had told him a good deal about this part of the country, and he was thus equipped with information which enabled him to point out to the hdy alfalfa fields, orchards watered by irri- gation ditches, and, where the land was un- reclaimed, chaparral, lupine, yellow and _blue, and tall yucca plants crowned with clusters of white flowers. Prospect holes v!.slble here and there in the warm-colored - mountainsides marked spots where gold and silver had been sought, and the - mention of precious metals .led easily to his . fayorite topic. - He told her of his start-in life, of the growth of his business, of his commer- cial polciles. and thus, he managed presently, witheut making too much.a point of it, to draw from his pocketbook the two-column articles the Dally Sentinel had published Jast year. * “You might be interested in glancing over this,” he remarked in_a casual tone. And partly as a hint to ber he tdded “I always think it’s pleasanter to know somelhlnz ‘about the people you meet, don‘t you?" She. thanked him, hlming her head to give him a bright smile, and when she had finished reading she smiled again as she said: “We in Europe, of eourse, hear of America's capiains of. industry and it seems quite won- derful that I should have ‘chancéd tc meet one in this 'way.” She held out the cmhblng '“Keep it if you vhh" i:e said ¢enerously : My wife and dlu(hter have merul around the ) house.” “This statement was kept by stelh and P.ullne but were in the drawer of his desk he felt, howqu that the . . inaccuracy was )usttflcd because it let her know he was a family man. He had taken (rom hi.s poo.ket the blue and silver badge of the N. R. 8. J. A. A, and was exhibiting it to her, when a plessant-faced elderly woman appeared. on the -platform and handed her a cape, whereupon Mr. Bisbee rose quickly . from, his ehair expecting to-be: intro- duced, but after they had spoken briefly in some foreign language the dder woman bowed and went in. ” His first thou.'ht was that thls might be the lady's mother, but the-matter-of-course-manner -in .which she accepted the service suggested that she was a compenion or a maid. He was thinking about this when she rose. and offered him the Protecto spectacles, saying she was going in, but he insisted that she keep them. At dinner that night, at breaknst next morn- ing, he watched for her in vain; nor had she appeared in the obgenntlon car. when, some hours after the train passed the summit of the great divide, a stop was made at a junction city, a Spanish settlement of long ago, where Indians in brilliant costumes were peddling native baskets, pottery and trinkets. As the stop was a long one, the cars qumkly emptied and Mr. Bisbee was pleased when he caught sight of her walking ahead of him. “I've been reading,” she told him when he overtook her. 7 y They strolled along together looking at the squatting Indians and their wares and . came presently to the stand of a photographer where a Navajo chief was prepared to pose with all comers, the photographer agreeing to deliver three postcard photographs, stamped for mail- ing, before the departure of the train. . quite accu- . - Tate,’ the extra eopies of the Senunel weré not . MR. BISBEE'S PRINCESS { ovs! THI~ QUND‘\Y QI“\R WAHHIN()’ “)ou might be mtoreuvd in glancmg o1 “Come,” cried the lady. To be photographed with an lndhn seemed - to Mr. Bisbee rather undignified, but the lady's manner was compelling and he joinéd ‘her.’ ‘While waiting for the photographs to be fin- ished, they: visited a nearby shop’ where the Jady: purchased woven baskets, a pottery urn and a bracelet consisting of wide bands of silver set with matrix turquoise. On returning for the phofiognpm he discov- | ered that the shutter had caught him ‘smiling. ] The effect wasn't bad; he and the lady were ! " looking at each other across the Indian and her smile was lovely. ’ i “You must sign one 'of them for me,” he said | as he weomp.nledherloher sufieroom P t .Hl drew -out hls (old-mounud fountain pen and with & sense of victory watched as she signed her name across the bottom of the post.- card photograph. Now he would know whst to call her. : “ “As’near as I can make out,” he uud “It's Gabriella Lescaboura.” "YQS ” “* “Mrs.?” " She nodded. i “Well, I'm certainly much obliged, Mrs. Les- caboura,” he said, and put the photograph care- fully into his’ pocketbook. Next day, while he was at lunch, she came into the dining car and on his way out he paused, wished her good-afternoon and dropped a casual remnl'k about hoplng to see her later on- the observation platform; but ‘though he . spent the afternoon there, she did not appear. Well, anyway, he'd see her in the morning. Maybe there was something he could do for her in Chicago; if she wanted him to take her any place, he could wait over and take the 1 o'clock for home. Next day he woke early and had dressed and ' breakfasted before most of his fellow- passengers were up; but for fear of disturbing her, he did not knock on her drawing room door until the train was entering the outskirts of the city. “Ah,” she said as her maid opened the door, “I was just going to send you these souvenirs.” She indicated the package of Indian curios, ' adding: “For your daughter.” | “Are you going to stop in Chicago?” he asked . eagerly. . “Only a day or twp. I am sailing from New York, Saturday week.” “It's certainly been a great pleasure to of met .you, -Mrs. Lescaboura,” he said, “and I've been thinking maybe I could make. things pleasant ‘for. you in Chicago. - I know the city