The evening world. Newspaper, January 11, 1912, Page 17

Thursday, ~ IER'S) i ‘ p By CASELIZ A Western Romance of the Great Outdoors—Cowboys, “Rustlers,” Two-Gun Men and Frontier Heroines. Then he Grooped, hie expression be-, ini coming the lugubrious mask of self-pity. “A cowhand ain't nothin',” he de- | Clared to the surrounding silence. Ohi amma ey ‘ he urged the pony toward thi Fook trail that led up the opposit bank of the stream. | He had not yet cleared the water “And then"—— Miss MoVea hes! for an anewer, “Don't know. Reckon I'll land some- where.” ted) MvVea's office to make his report. For three days the Rar Cross outfit had heen working the river range, after hav: | Ine swept the grass from tho plains. He gazed abstractedly at the rock| when Miss MoVea's pony clattered Defiance wrought stesly points in| There was peace in McVea's mind, Wall on the opposite side of the river. | down the a! Miss MoVea's eyes. Vor two months he had been relieved After a time his expression hardened.| ‘Jeasie!” eald Monty. In his voice she said tensely, “do you) of Monty's presence, Miss MeV Again his mind dwelt on the cause. |two notes were dominant—surprise diol Keemod unmoved by the cowpunche Monty's presence at Purgatory River | and pleasure. waid Monty, “hut —— absence and went about her househo! “Then prove MeVea. Monty lifted puzsled eyes it," interrupted Mies! duties with a song on her lps and | unwonted sparkle in her eyes. Sh to her#./ not mentioned Monty, but she hi was not a result of chance, McVea had| The two ponies browsed the tops of committed the unpardonable “ & Pe iver oa tee hat on casting him off in the middle o! pack horee si a ha season, when any cowpuncher had a| likewise, ‘Ona bal took Mi ».| How was a man to prove his love for! on long rides—alone. right to expect a ranch manager to| Ven and Monty sat and talked. Monty's|® woman when the world had gone us, consider his services invaluable. Yot|slumness was now only a haunting) back on him? van | Monty did not profess ignorance of the | memory, might clope,” he suggested, acent- cause, That wae a thing which every| “Of course father does not expect] ng & way out of the dimculty eveaking sollcttously. “And I ,don't puncher fn the Bar Cross outfit had|me back for a week,” eald Mise Mo-| “We won't elo feturned Mise Mfo-} want you to take such tong rides, If Aiscussed exhaustively, Only lately had| Vea, smiling demurely into Monty's) Ve" decidedly. “And you won Foun] Low must do tt, there's Veto, or Bud, or McVea stumbled upon tt. And then—| eves, “but things were so dull over at| Trinidad, or—or land somewhere. You | Webb Balt could go with you and” — So Monty was bound for Trinidad, | go tight down the valley te Deny I can take care of myse!t, where he Intended to linger tn lquor ind T wanted to see| Bend and take up w ainrten me tion | colity. hen T want @ ma until he found that solace which time pee Tee © er wien youve ave 2] "00,til Iet you know.” brings. Afterward he would look for a ‘@ glumness returned. For a) sre sniuh. Married ‘This drew a siniie from MoVem It Job, Now he stood on the projecting |sweet moment he had forgotten. ate vet “Government tard and dad| Was the McVen spirit. stream. | “You're seein’ me again for the last) aint own it any more than vou do, I've| When the range boas stepped inside ad settled into the marrow |timo,” he said shortly, kicking at ©) 2ot some money that was ieft me by the door of MeVea's office the manager . Naard that regarded him with stony! gaa‘, brother, and I'll trust you to was busy poring over his cattle tally, Unaware of the presence of Monty, gaze. ing. We'll be a company,| He hesitated in this work as he caught Mins McVea approached the Fiver. “Monty! Mise MoVea setsed nie) the right thing: : the range boss's eye. hi gone ‘This war un- 4 MeVea had cautioned her, There's nothing on the range or in the foothills for # girl to eee,” he sald, (Copyright, 1011, by Outing Publishing Co.) CHAPTER I. “A cowhand ain't nothin’,” declared | shoulders firmly and looked into his) “"y, nester,” e's a noster over on Shallow The Double Cros 1 Monty again. eyes for evidence of untruth, There a Ea know what happens to nes said the range bos ONTY sacked wearlly in the saddle, giving the pony an unusually! “mere was the flatness of utter| was none. ‘around these parts.” MeVea placed hi his hande loose rein, The world drowsed, the silence breathed premonition, in his tone. Refreshed,| “It's all up,” he sald. “Your father| “re 1 was a man I'd be @ man," sald) and looke over the epace was an unending thing that stretched into interminable dis- er dripping from its muzzle,|knows, and I'm leavin’ Bar Croes.” | xtige McVea, coldly. (top of his desk. As the eyes of the two [ tances. It was a world of sand and white heat and treeless waste,|the pony turned a thankful, inquiring| Miss MoVea's oheeks whitened, but) “I reckon I'm @ man.” returned! m range boss smiled. What- in which Iiving, breathing man was an atom—hot even important|/¢ye upon him. He approached it, pat- | her lip Monty. ‘To prove it I'm going down to ever McVea read in this smile caused were firm, “Where are you going?’ she ques- Shallow Bend and take out my land." | his lips to stratehten he rose trom Riding tioned. Ik his chair and stood rietd, his face dark- “Trinidad, how stepned into with 9 grow! ted its swung atiffly into the saddle. into the shallow streaming flank, im Ms own estimation. The pony drooped, forcing {ts tired legs forward with slow, automatic wegulerity, A hundred yards in the rear, the pack horse trailed with lowered fai hhead, dragging its hoofs !n the hot sand. Had ibe ruler of the universe looked down into Purgatory Valley on this afternoon he would have seen the bald hills and the precipitous rock walls that marked the course of Purgatory River. He would have seen the sand end dust and the cactus—fixtures of a changeless country, Twenty miles into the western distance he would have scen the straggling adobe headquarters @f the Bar Cross ranch, set down tn the center of desolation, He could not have failed to see Monty and his pack {obscured his vision, So he rode glumly horse and the pony approaching Purga- | forward, unaware and disconsolate. tory River from the west; he could not] When he reached the trail that sloped have failed to seo Miss McVea and her | down into the bed of the stream he pony approaching from the east. found {t unnecessary to urge his beasts. ‘There was water in the Purgatory | They drank eagerly, burying thelr muz- River, and water was what Miss McVea | zles deep. Monty dismounted and kneit ‘and her pony needed; it was what{on a projecting rock ledge, scooping uP Monty and his pony and the pack horse |the water in dripping handfuls.” He meeded. Monty was a half mile n stood up presently, stretching his tall responded Monty. One day the r No Cant Get eit SwRt ov the river than Miss McVea and the hills figure to disperse the saddle weariness. Now Fatry) wher You Pull re STUNG IT Rings A BELL Mme. Simone Scores as Comedienne in Unusual Play GT The BY CHARLES DARNTON. T last a triumph for Mme. Simone! This plucky French actress renewed her fight for an Amerioan reputation at the Hudson Theatre last night ‘land by changing her tactics won @ decisive victory, In a role as vartable as the shifting winds that are causing us to turn up our coat collars at every corner she achieved her firat. real success in this country as a skilled com- if edtenne. . Sy at oS) HEINEY Oddly enough, she was not recognized by the audience until she made her x mat second entrance, and meanwhile her now leading man, Arnold Daly, had received the welcome usually accorded the star, But she merely smiled as though amused at the situation, whon, after having aoted for at least ten minutes, a! returned in a groen hat that evidently served to identify her, It was not surpr ing that she should havo been overlooked in the confusion of an opening scone given up to bewildering chatter, * AM thie seemed a waste of words, “The Return from Jerusalem” quickly whaped itsolf into drama, however, and Mme. Simone lost no further timo in establishing hersclf as the dominant figure in the play. As Honrlette de Cheuse, or Judith as she preferred to be oallod now that she had returned to ‘the Jowish fadth, Mme, Stmone grasped the character with a firm hand. She “was absolutely muro of horself, There was no suggestion of the old-fashioned, | melodramatic siren luring a man to his fate by @ sensual appeal. She was modern to her finger téns, intellectual, ambitious, arrogant. Judith had married and turned Cathollc tn order to become a countess; then | she had left all this and won Michel Aubler from an ordered domesticity, though | . he atil! clung weakly to what she called “tradition.” He wan atil uncertain WEVE BEEN FRIENDS A sone TIME when sho ended her viait at his home, but she left her bag containing @ letter NOW, HAVEN'T WE GEORGE? ULAR AND MONOPOLIZING MY Com- he had written, and when thie wam found by Michel's wife the door was thrown PANY — THEM'S HIS VERT WORDS- ‘open for him to follow her, y Bo . & ‘When the curtain went up again {t revealed Mme, Simone in a new mood, As a@ comedienne she was a revelation. She proved as brilliant as the lines of the play—and Maurice Donnay's play is brilliantly written, though more argu- mentative than dramatic at times. Hore tt assumed a light mood, Miche! and Judith had returned from thelr irregular honeymoon and were establishing themselves in Paris, But their happiness was not altogether perfect, for she was determined to enlist him in a movement in behalf of her race, She urged him to make alliances that would serve to advance his career, and In the interests of “Light and Peace” anked friends of her own race to her house. This brought about a jation that will doubtless make ‘The Return from Jerusalem a subject of discussion, Up to this time Michel had been content to) drift along as a “good-for-nothing Christian,’ as Judith good-naturedly put itt. | But {n the course of an argument on nationalism and militarism Michel lost his} head and ordered young Vowenberg out of the house. It was not an easy matter to follow this argument for the reason that Geoffrey Stein, as Vowen- berg, became almost unintelligible when he allowed his angry passions to rise, As 900n as the wapleasant p: y >roke up there was a tremendous row hé- tween Judith and Miciel. Mr, Dal a table with his fiat and Mme. Simone “threw a fit’? that br artain and herself, Under | Copyright, 19 by The Prem Ii) (The New Yur To KEEP ON COMING ROUND, HERE REG- the terrific etrain of this scene both became incoherent, and the performance suffered accordingly, Mmo one's violent pansion, culminating in hysteria, | Was effective, but Mr. Daly let the whirlwind carry him too hig Thero was more trouble when Michel discovered that Judith had used hin name in w to a government offlctal to secure a post for the young Jew | who had been turned out of the house, hut the last act, in which Judith de- termined to 0 her race and Michel decided to go dack to hia wife and child ot only quiet but exceedingly tame, Mins Selene Jo} son, however, w athy for the wife, acting with such deeep tenderness as to atone for her enuois outouret at the end of the first act, | Mme. Simone, hand, fatled to make her tender moments count, Bhe acted with her loud, and was at her best tn the lighter pcenes, She had much to be gnateful for in her leading man, Mr, Daly was on his mettle—and here fs an actor who can act when the apirit moves him! He wan the passion- ate lover, the consctence-stricken husband, the sensitive, irritable writer—the high-strung Michel {n all his phas i plendidly to the ecene of violent rage and bitter re nation, even though allow himself to go a bit too far, Mise Ivy Troutman wan attractively as Michel's open-minded slater, end K. V, Dletz did an amuning bit of work as Dr, Lurdau, @ character that bore the earmarks of Max Nontau, "The Return from Jerussiem’ ts an unusual play and {t may prove to be a A@isturbing one to thore who cherts) racial feellngs, But it 4s an Interesting play that presents a pr from two points of view, Ractal prejudice need scarcely enter into the discussion af the strong-minded heroine, for Judith te @n individualist of the most pronounced sort, Buch women, whether they are Freaeh, American or Jowish, must dominate-and woe to the man of another Game whe thinks otherwise! i January ER wTHoR OF THE TWo-GUN MAN.” 11, TIDE eM nes onan am them ge gee ¢ “) RECKON THIS HERE LITTLE AL a 1 mS RROV OH YET. © “Well?” he sald, “It's Monty.” Silence fell in the manager's office. The Bar Cross manager had a way of dealing with nester way which the range boss knew. In at | halt cases which the range iniaht mentioned the method had proved clous, only to strangers, The men tft would run off a stranger’ or burn his buildings or work ruln and misery upon him ti numerous other waye—all in a spirit of reckless fun. But would they do this to Monty? Monty had always played fair with the boys of Bar Cross, “Maybe it's a bluff," Presently. “He feels some sore becdust 1 laid him off in the middle of thi summer, T reckon he'll atick around @ whilo and then make tracks." sald MoVen “Nary track,” the range boas as- sured ) He's built a cabin and corral, hauling the timber from the co! tonwood down by the Bend. He means t satd McVea, “we'll"—— He held back the bald threat. ‘Tho Bai Cross range Is unhealthy for nest- ers.” he concluded, going back to his tally sheets, Having a knowledge far beyond that suspected by the manager the range boss turned hin head and e#miled, Rid- ing the river trail a month before, the range boas had come upon Monty, bi ing his cabin on Shallow Bend. Mis Pony war hitched nearby, ly, It was the duty of the rang the honorable man has le to realest {mportunit! of woman, and Miss McVen wan always most attractive in her most persuasive moods. There- fore had the range boss been derelict in his duty, stolldly awaiting the time when the herd would aweep into the valley near Shallow Pond and discovery be inevitable. That time had now com: over to Shallow Bend to- morrow afternoon and see this layout,” he said, When the range boss had departed McVea summoned his daughter. She came through the door that opened into the altting-room and stood In the open- ing, @ tall, slender figure, erect, the ghost of @ smile in her eyes and on her pa. sale,” sald MoVea sternly, “Monty im nestering over on Shallow Bend.” Mise McVea‘s smile broadened but sho port nothing. MeVea continued earn- ently: “T've noticed that Monty has been kind of sweet on you, Of course you know that I don't want you to ‘get thick with any serub cow-punch “That's why you sent me over to Yonger's," said Mine McVou swoetty. MoVea flushed. He had told her to stay at Yeager's for a month, until he could dispose of Monty. She had re- turned at the end of thres weeks. He had never beon able to accept Iiterally her declaration that life at Yeagor's wil, She had always shown @ wis. dom far beyond her years, “T know enough about Monty *) know that he ain't naturally a nester,” sald, wisely ignoring her reply. “And hia banging around Bar Cross ts for a burpose, That purpore ts to be ncar Well?” eald Miss MoV. “I don't want him hanging around here!" snapped McVea. | Mise MoVea remarked, quite how you ean pre’ at Shallow Bend an she nruied, “I don't see ent him from staying proving his claim,” MeVea ecowled. “There's some ways,” he said brusquely, “that I don't lke to mention, They ain't polite nor gentle, And they'd mean heaps of trouble for Monty." $ He hesitated, looking at her intently and speaking with broad Betty V Advice t \¢ |The Etiquette of Calls, addei better to com able hour. Finally, unk right to object and he shows | When he attempts such objections, A Lovers’ Quarrel. “M. Wi" writes: "A year ago I had a misunderstanding with a young man and T was to blame, Now I have writ ten him @ note asking to be friends again, to patch up tha quarrel? No, You must wait for his move, He Will probably be glad to answer your note and meet you half way, “T. M." writes st summer I met do and we have been Jing ever since, Would it be improper ¢or me to ask him for his photograph?” aint I think I should wait untit he asks for yours, an@ thoa offer to exchange heretofore the method had been | a} the p her recely Is thero anything else I can do) , as Ry Kim pull up stakes without my having to get him tnto trouble. Hin daughter's @: “Well “That's for you to send him @ mete telling him that you don't care te Rave Mim ‘hanging atound Bar Cross’? Miss MeVea smiled gently, “But that Would be a ile," she sald. |, The tally sheet dropped from MoVea's fingers. Ho started up, red of face, with *@ curse on his lips, Then he sat down | Again, dull fire emoldering in his eyes. | “That means you've fallen in tove with him, T suppose?’ he sneered. Miss McVea's eyelids dropped, MoVea Picked up the faten tally sheet and nervously made some meaningtese fig- ures upon {t."" “That's all" he salt gruffly, “1 feckon we'll have to try one of the other ways.” | nia one way which would make mL Meanwhile, over on Bhailow Bond, Monty labored doggedly to found « habitation. The cabin grew—a preten- tious structure one story high, with one room and @ lean-to, The walls were of loge, hauled with Infinite patience and labor from the adjoining cottonwoods. ‘The roof was sod, bedded down on stout timbers. Two windows and a door fur- ninhed light, Much serous thought had deen given to the building of the cabin. Many close conferences had been held while the atruction went slowly fer. ward, McVea known that fis daughter rode every day to Shatlew Bend he would have regretted dismissing Monty. Love amidat the solitude, with AO witnersen but the trees, was nothing leas than Paradise, “The cabin in small, of course,” sald Mian McVea, viewipg it from the fallen tree trunk In the cottonwood shade, where she and Monty passed innumer- able hours making plans and considering the future, “but we must make ft Gifferences over was com, amidst an atmosphere of perfect bap- pines: Then Monty fenced tn his quatter- , section with a rambling array of pomts and barbed wire secured frem Junta and charged to Miss McVes. A shed rose, then another; a fenced tnclosure to be used as a corral wae built, Ther Monty was ready for business, His animals—the pack horse and the pony--oceupled the corral for a time, but prosently jan to make their appearance and a new and smaller Inclosure was staked out for the horees. On an afternoon two months from the time he had begun operations Mi leaned against the corral fence and sur- veyed the result of his labors, Mise McVea had been gone from Shallow Bend for an hour, Shining down upen Monty was the sun—unchanged. It wan {the same sun that had almost over- powered him at Purgatory crossing two months before. Over him was the same empty ky, around him the same silence and the |{nterininable distances. And yet these ‘things seemed not The same. For Mon- \ty's heart was lighter; before him was |@ future, He stood erect and stretched | himsert, “Tt ta half bad place," he eaté. Ne turned, the clatter of hoofs reach- ing his ears, Emerging from the shai- low water of the crossing were two ponies with riders, “MeVea and the range boss," satd Monty, and certain hard lines fell about hin mouth. He watched their approach for an instant and then, turning unconcerned- ly, deftly drew his six-shooter from its holster and stuck it between his ahirt and the waistband of his trousers in front. Then vile McVea and the range boss cluttered up to the corral gate he carelessly whistled @ seleetion from his picturesque musteal reper toire. (To Re Continued) incent’s o Lovers HE matter of calling etiquette seems to be of eam ble importance to the readers of this column, F] from the letters I reel! Therefore, I'm Going to give you @ few simple rules. Girl, don't ask young men to call on you. too much of running after them, it ts the man’ ask the girl's permission to call on her. Young don't make your calls too tong, Tt t equently and go home at @ reason- am, s engaged to @ girl he has go is other callers beside himaelg, Heelf to be both selfish and unreasonable writes: “fam in love with @ am earning only 15 a week. ne We go to some place of it she insists on teinging ver girl and young man, ¢or when Byery amusem Certainly, T ver your Jnancial t- cumstances and she herself will eee the need of being more considerate, writes: "What 1s the proper a narry? How much money should 4 young man save before marrying?” I think 1t {s better for both girla and young men to be of age before marrying. ‘The answer to the second. question €e- ponds on the cireumstences in whieh you live nee oh eet