The Seattle Star Newspaper, September 14, 1921, Page 13

THE SEATTLE STAR —) — 2 e e ee e “7 rf ” DOINGS OF THE DUFFS Tom Is Not Such a Bad Husband BY ALLMAN s 3 PAPER RO SES ASE Sie romnue > when” WELL, WOULD You Look AY THAT! \ HOPE THATS HIM On YESITS ME! AND (M@LAD You CALLED } SIGHT IN TWE MORNING - WHEN HE LEFT A LIGHTED CAR STUB THE PHONE NOW! I'LL UP = | WANT TO TELL YoU WHAT You DID? ~ 9 RUBY M. A ES Amey DEQDES To gpa ol LAY ON THAT GOOD TABLE AND TELL HIM WHAT | THINK WALT AMINUTE HOTHING! WHAT? bP EO HE yUST DROPS am BURNED A SPOT ON IT! F BOUGHT ME_ A NEW FUR NECK PIECE - s By U . YR THING ANY PLACE BELIEVE ME, (LL TELL HIM SOMETHING pit oie As vy Tad WHAT KIND? MOLE SKINP THE i 3. ° ee: All Rights Reserved + . | WHEN HE GETS THAT DRAPES OVER THE SHOULDERS at's of (Starts on Page One Presently the band stopped pay.) Honest 7, On You DEAR! eS, BRING IT” aay, for his father to die. ing with dramatic suddenness; the | WITH You! COME HOME EARLY! wHAT Wo .s ; a ben it ody "he Ny oe “eu | lend te iiaken to p ga gee YOU LIKE FOR DINNER? OH,I'LL HAVE. ‘waiting for the death of the man! orate, if somewhat ungrammatical | Who was less to him than the sleek | speech announcing the starturn of | valet who brushed his clothes and/ the show--Mademoiselle Rosalie, in Brought shaving-water to the lux | her wonderful trapexe act. perious bedroom in his London cham} The two boys who had elbowed ders. young Briton began to talk excited 2 oF, - ya : \ of | f : LiKE -GoaD BYE had always seemed to him like an} ‘Ogre’s castle, He had never, even ‘@s & child, looked upon it as a home; it was just an uncomfortable tuxurt Sous place, where one might never Maugh, or race up and down stairs, or do anything one wanted to do./ “The old feelitig of chill depression had fallen upon him afresh, like a) ntle, when he had turned in at the | carriage gates a week ago, and Yooked up at the drawn blinds of the room where his father lay dying. | He had been conscious of a chill fm every vein as he mounted the Stairs and tiptoed to the bedside. Old Briton had watched him cross the room, his hawkeyes fierce we- Meath beetling brows; but for those) eyes he might have been dead al weady . . , but when he spoke| his volce whe firm and hard, as) young Briton had always remem- dered it. “Bo you've come for the dead man's shoes,” he said, and he Taughed gratingly. “Don't make too} Sure of them, my boy—not too eure.”| uPhe “owas a week ago, and he was) ‘still alive—the fierce old man who| had never compelled love, only fear} ‘Qnd respect. Only that morning there had been a cynical smile in his eyes ‘fas he looked at his son, a sneer in _ Bis voice when he answered his awk- question: “Feeling better, guv’nor?™ “I am not dead yet, Roderick . . ” pause, and then: “You look at me th her eyes—you wish me dead, as aan poor little mother!—the little, butterfly who had found lite terrible a thing when lived by father’s side. Rerie could only Just remember laughing face and witching | eyes. When he was still a ehild, she had taken the only means ; she could think of, and broken her marriage vows for ‘Qpother man. ‘ She was dead tong ago, but until morning, Rorie had never heard mame on his father's lips. He Fesented the bitter allusion to/ , Femnembering soft arms that had | ce held him—dainty, jeweled fin- that had smoothed his hair. AB angry retort had rushed to his) 5 it had taken all his self-controt keep it back. He had rushed) ily from the room and out tnto| autumn sunshine, and ee A week ago a telegram from old|ly—they stared up with faactnated a Fergerson had brought young Briton | eyes to where a swinging bar hung | 4 Pellancll to the stately house in the) tn the light of the yellow flares high | t frees outside the village, which| up against the roof. f atl N( St q 3] ; lip rite 53 aThyseltcde aise! i j "¢ zi z a g 5 “She gets 100 pounds a week, Tom Yea, she does—I know she does. My! sister told me so, and the man at the shop where the bills were hung up told her. If you don’t believe ™m .. & He broke off as a little figure, tn silk tights and a short white skirt decorated with a trail of paper roses) ran into the ring. She looked pa thetically small in the big, dreary place-—tike a little fluttering butter fly. Young Rriton felt an overwhelm ing pity for her: what sort of life could it be for any woman—follow. | ing « thirdrate circus from place | to place in all weathers—with no real home! She had climbed thé ropeladder | now, and stood high up on a tiny) platform beside the swinging tra. pene, her little slender figure out lined tn the yellow light. Young Briton averted his eyes with & sudden sick feeling; he had’ once seen a man fall from a height not © great-—fall and ming the safety net below; he could not force himself now to look at this girt's per-/ formance; he was relieved when a} thunderous burst of applause told | him she was safely on the ground again. She made her exit, bowing from side to side—kissing her hands to the dience. She vanished thru the tentopening like a little white fairy When she had gone young Briton rose and made his wag out also. There was a ing rain falling: the field looked gray and depressing; the glow of fire from a caravan made a pleasing splash of color thru the somberness. Young Briton stopped and looked in at the open door. ‘The flickering firetight played upon & row of brightly burnished copper pots and pans and a neat truckle bed in the corner. Short red curtains hung at the small windows; the whole place was scrupulously clean. A man crouched beside the fire; his shadow fell, huge and misshapen, on the ceiling, the hands he held to the blaze looked enormously large for the size of his body. As young Briton watched him he rose to bis feet; he was a hunch- back, He had @ young face, lined either by pain or bitterness; his hair grew in coarse masses; his eyes were small ground had oozed into little puddies of water; his boots were caked with mud. He walked a few steps toward the road; he remembered he had had no tunch. Suddenty a girl's shrill scream rent :|the air, followed by piteous sobbing words, Young Briton stopped and looked | round; then he turned and retraced eye. He) y forefinger. | All the fun of . his steps. The cries came from behind the big caravan; as he rounded it he saw @ man, with uplifted fist, about to strike a girl, who crouched away from him, sobbing. Young Briton took stride for- “Thank you very much,” she sald. | Her eyes met his; such blue eyes | they were, fringed with dark lashes. | They made Eriton think of hie mother—the lite, silly butterfly who had onee held him in her arms and smoothed his hair,with soft, jeweled Ongers, |den feeling of reverence. “I wish I could do gomething more for you,” he stammered There was @ little silence; the |girl's white face flushed, her eyes | fell. The hunchback made a sudden movement; he turned on his heel and climbed back into the big caravan. Once again the door shut violently beneath hie hand. / Young Briten was giad he had gone. He realized all at once that there were quite a lot of things he | would like to say to this girt. “Does that—brute—often hit you? he asked bluntly ‘ She shook her head. “Who is he?" asked young Briton. “Your father?” “No, he's the manager here He brought me up.” “I see.” ate eyes. “Poor little girl.” he said, pityingly With a sudden gesture she covered her face with her bands—ehe burst lyto weary sobbing. ‘ | “Oh, I wish I were ‘dead. I wish I were dead.” Young Briton was shocked; from the moment when she ran into the ring he had pitied her without exact ly knowing why; but now, after what he had seen —the bully’s uplifted fit, the slender bruised arm—he was filled with horror to think of any woman exposed to such treatment. All the women he had known had! been ladies — delicately nurtured. | sheltered, petted—but this poor little sirl— | He lald an impulstve hand on her “Oh, 1 say, don't’ cry.” he sald in| “There's nothing to cry} for, What can I do to help you? I've got lots of money.” what his|ward; his fingers closed over the! 16 spoke quite unaffeetedly, with if he knew what, what the sleek | say—what the man's wrist like iron; he twisted the knuckles of his other hand into the man’s collar, “You would, would you? You his | brute!” he said between his treth. tent. It was fa dull afternoon; the gray 1s Ut with yellow flares high up in circles against oof: sawdust sprinkled the sod- ground; the doleful band—en-| ced now behind a red-covered murdered a popular song ¥ th a kind of hopelessness, as if) [> it were quite aware of its incompe-| fence, and utterly at a loss to know how to rectify it. | Young* Briton mounted the rows ef boarded seats; a couple of wildly excited schoolboys elbowed him with fine disregard; they changed their! seats five times in as many min | fn ofder to secure the best view Young Tf a neglected boyhood and two young Briton nothing else, they had | out the least desire to brag. It had dawned upon him all at once at there must be a great many poor Yt-| tle Mile, Rosalies in the world, and| that he was only one of the thou- sands of idle rich who might make ant—if only he would! yearw idling at Oxford had taught |i. hard path of her life more pleas | taught him how to use his fints, and | he used them now unsparingly. ‘The girl watched him tremblingly with fascinated eyes. Suddenly spe made a little rush forward—she caught his arm in both her slender hands. “Let him go; let him fof’ Young Briton looked down at her; he was flushed, and his eyes were fierce. At that moment he looked very like the old man who lay dying up at the big hose among the trees. “Let him go—oh, please let him go,” said the girl again. She was as white as the frock she wore beneath the long shabby brown coat that enveloped her childish shilling seats afforded. thon wedged himself between a figure. Young Briton flung the man fat woman with a baby on her lap from him into the mud, and turned “and-an old man sucking @ clay his back on him with a royal indif. } ; he looked around with spark- ference. fing eyes.at the lurid scene. There, “Did the brute burt you?’ he + ‘odd fascination about a travel-|asked breathlessly. te an fing circus, an Indefinable some-| He wags conscious that the girl thing that keeps one on the qui vive; looked tmidly past him at the pros- @ sort of feeling that something— trate man before she’ answered. f@nything—may happen at any mo-| “No—thank you.” But the shabby (ent. Young Briton was Este seek had atipped seite, and Ronsats conscious of it; he found himself |it he saw that she was nursing a waiting with intense excitement fox |slender wrist, all bruised and bleed formance to begin—uncon- ing. Beary be beat time with his foot) Young Briton flushed, his big fo the doleful, jerky music. When hands clenched themselves into fists: & cream-colored horse, with a back /he looked back at the man who had 90 wide that the rawest amateur risen stiffly from the ground ould have stood on it with safety, | ae lay ® tee on her ages bled amiably into the ring with|and I'll set the police on you,” he “a fair ecommsiante in tights kissing | said, furiousty. “her hands to the enthusiastic audi-| The man began to swear and blus- “ence, he shouted with the rest of |ter; he was a common-looking fellow them; he was a boy again—the boy/in shabby evening dress; he wore a “who had once played truant from |sham diamond stud in his shirtfront, ‘achool to follow in the steps of ajand another in a ring on h® litle ‘stilted clown, im sine hin Bin were ugly as they lone of the “turns” were partic-|ecowled at Briton. Soom good, but roars of apprecia-| The door of the big caravan opencd tion greeted each; the elephants |suddenly above them—the hunch ame in for an enormous ovation; back appeared at the top of the ‘the tale old jokes cracked a the | steps. He looked at the girl and ingmaster and a harlequin with a then at the two men. ot note evoked shouts of laughter; | the old man with the clay pipe beside | young Briton chuckled till the tear ran down his furrowed cheeks; th {at woman with the baby in her| The girl rushed toward him ‘armns shook like an agitated jelly; the| “Don't take any notice, Budge; he “two small boys in»front yelled “En-|didn’t know what he was doing. And ‘ " and whistled thru their fin |—and this gentleman stop; him.” » The hunchback looked at Briton; 1g Briton” was borne along on|his eyes were stil unfriendly. The le of excitements he found|third man had sneaked off and was watching with breathless de-|lowt in the gray shadows of the clos. hen the clown*now unstilted jing afternoon, over his own feet in the most| The girl stood between Briton and! nt manner, or rolled himself |the hunchback. She looked at Brit-| in the carpet which was laid on; a smile quivered over her whit face, again?” he asked. His eyes glared | t the man in evening dress; he be gan to come down the steps slowly “Hullo, Sherney; at your old tricks |at 9. Pity had never knocked at his! door; he had sometimes given pen- | nies to blind men—once he had picked up a street urchin from the! mud and dried his tears with six-| pence; but, in a general way, pov. erty and distress were the sort of things he bad only heard about, and | never come into actual contact with. The girl lifted her tear-wtained face | from her hands—her wet eyes looked Jat him wonderingly. The rouge and | powder on her cheeks were smudged unbecomingly—and yet she was pret ty In spite of it and her hair was soft and fair, her little nose and |mouth exquisitely’ shaped There was a painfully hunted look in her eyes; they went past young Briton, searching into the shadows behind him fearfully “There's nothing to be afraid of,” he sald, gently. “I flatter myself I can deal with any of the brutes here. | Why was that man hitting you?” She answered him in a breathes | whisper. | “He said I funked, but I didn’t, | tho I hate it. You don't know how| I hate it—the horrible trapeze. Some | day I shall fall and be killed.” | There was terror in her voice— |she shuddered convulsively. “I tried \to run away once, but I hadn't any money, and he—Sherney—he found me, and-——" She broke off; her eyes were fixed on the window above the closed door of the caravan, Briton followed her gaze wonder- ingly; between the short red curtains | he met the malevolent eyes Of the hunchback ‘The girl gathered the shabby cloak about her; she moved a step away “I must go; they'll guess what I am saying to you. Oh, pleage let me |go," for young Briton had stretched | a detaining hand | He stood back instantly “T shall be here again tonight You shall not stay with these people, You will see me at 97” She gave some unintelligible an swer—she broke into a run across the sodden field, the huge gafoshes rhe wore over her cheap white shoes flapping at each step. Young Briton took a cigaret from his pocket. He deliberately struck a match on the caravan wheel and jit | it. He was acutely conscious of the hunchback still watching him; but he afraid—he was not going to begin| now, He threw the burnt mateb) from him into the mud and walked | ‘away slowly. FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS B-FRECKLES WENT AN Took JUMBO ‘T’ We Hope You Have a Fine Time Noplace, Tag! Umede BUT WHERE WILL You RUN ¥¢ SCHOOL WITH WIM AN’ DION'T TAZE ME © rm GONNA RUN AINAY, AN) WHEN T GET WERE Meme a 7 TRUE HUH § — Just Liks A- TMsT'S A GOoD SUGGESTION — Tr Ger HAT Or Pvrr ON THIS ONG. r * ' OF HER, Ons He looked at her with compassion [AND HAVG A LARGCR PLUMS Geattle * * « * _ By Mabel Cleland _» Page 468 ALONG THE TRAIL On they went and on; some- times, when night came, there was no goof place to camp, and/ tired oxen and horses, and tired) men and women and children had | to plod on thru the darkness, for | there was no stopping on the pio- neer tral, except for a day's baking or washing and for the) Sabbath rest. When they reached the Hudson Ray post, Sudan and little brother had wonderful syrup, pineapple, cheese, pickles, crackers, or a little real candy. One night the whole party camped in a river bottom. The treats of lemon weather was hot and dry and the air close. About 10 o'clock @ faint rustling was heard in the trees, a cool wind sprang up and in a few minutes rain began to fall in sheets It rained and rained and rained, and the river rose so fast that be- fore they could get their wagons | out, everything was sopping wet, and « rushing stream was flowing between the peoMe and their cat And in the morning the oxen and horses and cows had to swim acrons before they could be hitch- ed up again. if Father rode on ahead that day and as usual mother was afraid when a big Indian came up and wanted to se® a gun. Father sa% him and came back and was kind to him and all was well. But Susan's real thrill when they saw herds of wild horses and buffalo, and she fancied herself riding as big sister did on one of those prancing, wild Pontes. She spoke of it to her father and the very next time they met Indians, father talked and talked and bargained with them and when he came back he led two new ponies, one for Susan and one for Little Brother, and after that these two rode much of the way. came There were no jelly glasses when they got to their new home and Susan's mother took empty bottles and tied yarn about the necks of them which she had soaked in turpentine. When she set fire to this yarn the top of the bottle came off nice and-even and there was a perfectly good Jelly glass. Ri | There wan a queer feeling of hap- pines in his heart—almost for the first time in his life he realized that there was something to be thankful for in the knowledge of the wealth that wag coming to him; he was all keen excitement and eagerness to help this poor little girl who had |looked at him with tears in the eyes |had never known what it was to be/|that were so like his dead mother's. The rain was falling again when he reached the great frowning house amongst the trees, He quickened his 4 motor with big headlights stood at the open door, As he passed it a man—a doctor—came out of the hall on to the steps; old Fergerson, the family dawyer, followed closely at his heels, Both men stood still when they saw young Briton, He ran up the steps to them. vening, doctor; how's the guv'nor—better?” It was old Fergerson who an swered him, “Your father is dead, Rod he said, gravely, (Continued in Next lssuq |1'd lose her. HELD-UP’ IN “THE PARK BY iL WAR_ CANNON et meer oye - _ HIS STENOGRADHER, TED ~ MPORTANT LETTER To HIM = WHEN A WOMAN TELLS By RUTH AGNES ABELING (Copyright, 1981, by Beattlc Star.) CHAPTER XXXV—I LIE TO JOHN AMES The tired voice of John Ames jtake*them to Grace. broke my thinking. Gracé had Just come in from some- “I was calling myself a dammed,|where when she opened her door insipid fool—and I think I am—don't |after my knock. you?” he questioned. “Ll was afraid you would be tn There was something almost boy: | bed I said, “Won't you take ish about his earnest face as he|these? Somehow I can't seem to en- waited for my answer. Joy them tonight.” “No—I don't think so." I hoped he would not go farther, 4 “Yes I am. You know it; Lila knows it; Phil knows it and I know it, No man would have stood it—as 1 have. Do you know why I've done it?" he questioned fiercely. “No.” “Because I was afraid that if 1} didn’t let her do as she wanted to I was a fool about ADVENTURES OF THE TWINS SOMETHING You | was too busy getting money |beanty needed. | afraid. her—and now I've lost her any yt “In the beginning I didn't notice it much,” he continued, “because I Money money, that was all I thought. wanted to have enough so that I} could put her in the setting her “And now I have just the empty setting! “The thing 1s getting me, I'm It's all I think of and I find myself waking up at night with a start—to worry about it.” The silence that followed was strained. I knew that unless a mir acle was wrought John Ames’ mar. ried life was wrecked, And knowing what I did, anything that T might say to gncourage him would sound empty. “They're out again—together, to- night, aren't they?” he asked. “No,” I lied. And I was thankful, just then, that IT had learned to lie with such convineing grace. “She isn't in her room.” He had been looking for her. “No-—she went out early in the afternoon with a woman friend.” T wondered, as T went on with the de ception, how it would work out. “Say where she was going?” he queried. “Not unless she told one of the "]1 couldn't enjoy them. maids.” “You're sure she went with a woman?" He seemed quite satisfied when 1 assured him that I had watched her go. Once more in my room, I was re minded of the event of the after noon. The place was fragrant with | violets. Lovely as the blossoms were Unwilline to throw them away until they had lived out their lives, I decided to » Curly loved Captain Pennywinkle Down under the sea went the; Curly loved Captain Pennywinkle Twins in their Magic Green Shoes|—or Cap'n as he was usually called. rents meet and the fish fromethe/and they got along beautifully, North going South, pass the -fiéh| Curly was quite as useful to his Mit from the South going North, and the’ tle. master as Sprinkle:Blow’s ume creatures from the East going West | brella was to Sprinkle-Blow, or Flip shove aside those from the West go- | pety-Flap’s shoes were to him, or the ing East. This place issealled the Bobadil Jinn's wishing ring, or last Land of the Wigglefins and there it|but not least, the Green Shoes to is that Captain Pennywinkle tries to| Nancy and Nick. Being ‘magic and keep order, with the help of his jont of the Fairy Queen's stables,” trusty and tried sea-horse, Curly. Curly could do almost anything. He_ Curly was so called—not, as you|spoke English quite well, as did his — may suppose, because he had a curly | master. § mane or a curly tail (he hadn't a| But there! I'm telling about the | hair on him)—but because he had |horse before I'm telling about his no feet, and when he wished to stay|master, which is just as bad as in a certain place he did so by twist-| putting the cart before the horse, ing the end of him ‘round a sea-weed, »You must know about Cap'n Penny- or anything handy, and holding on. winkie, Really, Br ny Ocean would He had litle fins on bis back whieh be ‘he most mixed up place in the looked like wings, and if Curly had | world, weve it not for the order he been a hundred times bigger and | keeps. (To Be Continued) had seven heads, he'd have looked like @ dragon, (Copyright, 1921, by Seattle Stag)