The evening world. Newspaper, May 6, 1916, Page 6

THE EVENING Story No. 7 THE ROGUE’S NEMESIS Two American girls, Mona Hartley and Mary Burnett, set about punishing the “Wolves of Society’? through their check books. This is the story of their seventh adventure. (Copyright by Balem Company.) 6 YY!" eaid Mona Hartley, “I haven't seen a paper for daye— and here, in the first one I pick up, ts the story of Goodwin Clay's divorce suit!” Her chum, Mary Burnett, looked at her. “I hate divorce cases,” she said, “I never read about them, They're sordid, dreary things!” “You don't remember,” said Mona. “You've forgotten who Goodwin Clay's wife is, haven't you—Dora Martyn?” “Dora Martyn!” said Mary, sitting up suddenly, “Did she marry that beast? I don’t wonder she's had to divorce him!” “But—it’s he that is bringing the euit!” said Mona. “Mona!” cried Mary. “What an outrageous thing! Poor little Dora— she never did anything that wasn’t right in her life—except to marry a man like that!" “What was she to do?’ asked Mona, bitterly, “except marry him—and be glad of the chance, She was like ue—she was struggling along, trying to make both ends meet—and having a constant fight. She choao ™marriaga ‘We chose to strike out for ourselves.” The Newest Kalem Picture Now Being Presented at the Leading Motion Plc- ture Theatres In Greater New York | meee And she’ and this ts bow she is paid. Oh, Mona—I don't care if we have had to use our brains, if we've bad to trick & few men who thought they were go- ing to trick us, we've done a wiser thing than she! Let's go to the trial,” answered Mona. “Maybe we can punish the deast. Neither of them was anxious to be recognized in tne court-room, They did not care, for one thing, to be classed with the morbid-minded women who are attracted by such cases as this, and, while there was only @ faint chance that Mr. Clay would remember them, they felt that it might be as well to eliminate even that possibility. There was no plan in their minds; they simply wanted to leave their hands free if it turned out that there was a chance for them to interfere, perhaps to punish Clay, perhaps to save the wife he intended to treat so cruelly. Not for a moment ‘would either of them believe that she could have done anything to justify the mire of the divorce court. Bo, to avold recognition, both Mary and Mona were heavily veiled. They @at in the back of the room, and they Hstened, with growing disgust, to Clay's hypocritical denunciation of the woman who had “wronged” him, and to the sorry batch of witnesses he had gathered in support of bia Tharges. ‘The chief of these was a character 8 notorious, in his way, as Goodwin y himeelf, one Jake Minter, This Minter, as both the girls knew, was hand in glove witb certain crooked politicians and had been mixed up often in shady affairs. His political pull bad saved him more than once. And both girls were convinced that be was perjuring himself now, as he reeled off his carefully prepared story, which was corroborated by men in bis employ. “Lies, es,” whispered Mary. “But Clay will get his divorce. Unless it can be proved that Minter is lying, the case against her 1s deadly!” The event proved that Mary was right, Minter’s testimony could not be shaken by the defense, Clay's di- vorce was granted; his wife, dis- Graced, was left, dependent once more upon her own efforts, since Clay, with & refinement of meanness, refused ab- solutely to make any provision for her. She had disgraced herself, he @aid; let her drink the dregs of the glass she had poured out for heracif! But of course Clay didn't know Mona and Mary, nor did he know that they had decided to right the wrong he ,had done, or he might have been more ‘considerate. The two girls, tn their natural in- carnation, looked like fashionable girls, unlimited when it came to the satisfaction of their desire to look well, But that night they drove in a taxicab to @ flashy restaurant where they knew Clay generally went, in the heart of the White Light district, It was Mary who took the lead; Mary who was, it appeared, decidedly particuler as to the location of their table, She was, as a matter of fact, looking for Clay. And at last she spied him, playing Bost to a small and select company of men, at a table that commanded a perfect view of the cabaret stage. And, what was more important, she saw that the: was @ small table, not far from Clay's, that was, for the moment, unoccupied, There was no difficulty about it, Mary was a etranger in that place, but they hoped, and believed, that that would eoon be changed. She and ber friend, it was obvious, were the sort of patrons the proprietor liked to see, “Well, there he is!” maid Mary. “Listen to him! He's ‘celebrating’ his freedom, 1 suppose. He has money that's why those men are with him. Look st them! If he lost his money they'd cross the street to avoid him!" ‘The two giris, with deliberate in- tention, had seated themselves so that they were acreened from Clay's vie though they themselves could see him plainly. And Mary, studying him attentively, grew more and more bit- come to a horror like this’ Deople out of ten would have done— — said Mary, “She did what nine ter, more and more determined to punish him. “Mona—you'd better go!" she said, suddenly, ‘ve made up my mind. You have got to do your part—but to begin with I've got to work wlone. I'm going to make him come over hore after you've gone.” And 00, reluctantly, Mona left Mary alone at the table. At once Mary changed her seat; she Ww with a smile of satisfaction that Clay no- ticed her at once. He leaned over to one of his companions, who turned at once and stared frankly at her. He nodded in solemn Approval, and sald something, at which Clay and the rest of the men at his table roared. Clay at once began to play the a of flirtation. He was direct, not subtle in bis methods; it was plain that he believed that any woman he deigned to notice must ba delighted by the honor he paid her. Mary pretended not to notice him at first; finally, however, she smiled, and nodded faintly, Clay rose at once and came over to her table. Mary saw a wait- er smile, knowingly, but there was nothing unusual, in that place, about Clay's action. “Hello!” he satd, in a heavy voice. “Glad to see you here! Thought 1 knew you—wasn’t sure till you amiled!"" “Won't you sit down?” timidly. “Bure, I will, sure!” hi about a little wine—hey? “Oh, no-no, please!" she said. “Not In a place like this!" He laughed, not il! pleased. “Aw, who cares?” he said. She was fumbling at the plain gold ring on the third finger of her left hand. His eyes lighted up. A look of understanding came into them, “Oh—that's the ticket, eh?" he said, “Married, are you? Afraid friend buaband will turn up and start aome- thing? Well, say—what do you say to a little spin in my car, eb?” “I shouldn't,” faltered Mary. “But, oh, I do love to motor”’— ‘Then come on!” he said. “I'll just shake this crowd of mine—be witb you before you can turn around. I'll show you some speed in that new c: of mine—some speed. Every cop’! trained to turn his back when he sees me coming! In a few minutes they were *peed- ing north through Central Park; it Was not long before the salt air from the Sound cooled her fevered cheeks, and sho beran actually to enjoy the wild rush through the night air. He drove well; the car was completely under his control, despite the dizzy speed at which he drove it. And—he Was too busy to talk, even had the roar of the engine and the swift rush of air made it possible for them to hear one another, They stopped at last, when it was late, at a road house, where they had @ table overlooking the Sound, where the lights twinkled red, white and red again cross the water. Few people were tn the place; Clay had chosen it for its isolation, “So you're married, hey?" he said when he had given the order. “Well, that's too bad, kid, too bad, Don't along any too weil either?” “Oh, Otto's all right in his way— but he doesn't weigh much!" said Mary flippantly. “The trouble with Rim is he's a genic!" «enius, huh!" said Clay with @ areat laugh, “What's his line?” @ musician! And he’s some if I do way it! Ho writes music too, That's the trouble. He's always thinking about that when he ought to be thinking about me. He Diaye all the time! Morning, nooo and night—whenever he's home! Saye he's got to work out the theme: for the symphony he's writing, that's woing to make him famous, That’ i right, you know—but it wets tiresome after a while!” “Sure—oh, sure!” said Clay, “Say why don't vou shake him A nice Httle girl like you oughtn't to be tied up to a dub like that “Oh, you don't know him!” said Mary, frightened. “ He'd ki me! You f iked Mary, enw, TO CLAY'S AMAZEMENT MONA HERSELF, IN HER OWN CLOTHES, SLIPPED INTO THE VACANT CHAIR BESIDE MARY. SLOWLY HE RECOGNIZED IN HER THE “MAD MUSICIAN.” “FOR ONCE YOU'VE BEEN BEATEN AT YOUR OWN GAME!” SHE SAID. never saw such a jealous man in your He's too busy with his music to bother with me—but if any other man looks at me—whew! “Gee—what's THE EIGHTH ADVENTURE OF “THE SOCIAL PIRATES” WILL BE PUBLISHED SATURDAY, MAY 13 was a concert,” 8 Oh—I didn’t know tt lished fiction of her jealous and ti ented busband, was able to do mucb as she liked with Clay in the days that followed. At first Clay, it was plain, belleved that she was simply trying to lead him on. “You needn't stall any more,” he told her. * right! "He expects “Why, the other day I met a fellow in the street I used to go to school with—and of course I stopped to talk come after you!” he threatened. “Oh, don't do that—you don’ “I should say you would!” how frightened I am Vell, Otto came along, and my but you should have seen the way he Ho was perfectly wild. pushed my friend away and dragged me home! He natd I was driving him mad—that I was driving all his in- spiration away! What are you going to do with man like that?” “Forget him,” said Clay & good thing you met me! F stacks up against me he'll won- der whether he got gay with Jess Willard or the Singer Building fell down on him! you and I!" You're awfully sure, aren't you?” sald Mary, temptingly. “How do you know I like you so much?" her, chuckling. “Say, where's little Otto to-night?" “Playing with his orchestra—there was so late!" “Late—it's ea * protested Clay, ou've got to rus If you drive as did when we were coming here I'll be Oh, hurry, please!" re home |aee so often enough.” home before him. Disappointment But, studyin, ment, he was satist ing the truth; she w His feeling for her was still in @ stage that led him to want to please And so, although he h home so early, he they were in the car again na left him, Tha sald, Mona greeted her with a fOr SAREE Beas |, to let on you Iiked me, did you? Wanted mo to get dippy about you first? Well, I fell! —forget Otto!” “1 can't forget him," said Mary, with a little shiver, part well. “And where do Lc We're going pt Just as hard a part to play Mona listened, Ana when Mary had done she laughed. “Mary—do you really believe that a man like Goodwin Clay will be fooled house she pointed out to him, and she sidered ay, call me up to-morrow, or I'll “T know it!" said Mar. got to “Oh—it's going to oe fun, after all!” said Mona, Mary, thanks to the well-estab- This had LS TAKE SHAKESPEARE RO pered the chimney sweeps, who, hav VACATION GIRL Vourth Ave- ssembled, with the witehes, and Thirty-fourth street hope Have Delighted Bard of Avon, in “Circus” at Armory. women who had had been invited by Queen an illustration o well as the pageant GREAT PAGEANT ARRANGED BY THE VACATION GIRLS. however, was the of Miss Morgan Vacation Associ ningoes led the royal pro- crowns and girdh and black shoes laced over white stockings, Marguerite Mooers Marshall. Will Shakeape “gallant Will,” had an eye jor a pret- form of a dril THEN CAME THE ENTERTAINERS OF QUEEN BESS'S COURT. attended by her purt of the great : » others who never formed on ever ind behind them flitted Will Shakespeare's re's men and women an age but for all time." flamingoes marched the plaided ones with horns MADSUEQITE M MARSHALL mly fashion around little song. Half wore ge: stockings, red on one side, yellow on the other; half were in black and Will's ghost of spectatars golden-brown Seventy-first principally?) haif a ghousand comely § ppeared in the speare Circus of the Vacation hoods were bl. young women aymmetrical saaeineduata capes, and each carried his t ‘ons for the tired business man's at- ends of the of the chimney This is tho ffth of the huge entertainments arranged by thesoclety of worknig girls, In which Miss Anne hats and float gan home on @ number of the rehearsals wer and white tul about her neck, hair wreathing her head, sho supervised the performance, powder-colored calisthenics with unmistakably ladies wafke umong them mourning H with flowers in her ha » hoods and the Again to-night Maybe you don’t see th ing sleeves lined with green DANCERS ADD MUCH TO THE EVENING'S PROGRAMME, , . wonderful sear arm of sombre Shyloek hed inte multitudinous petals venting Puck wouldn't consider that make merry before Rigabet olored streamers hanging from he was com- their shoulders. They also wore black IN PAGEANT Proteges of Miss Morgan Please Large Crowd—To Repeat Performance To-Night. The most beautiful dance was that given by the midsummer night fairies. They were barefooted, bare- arm rauzy, flower-v and flower-crowned, with nm, appeared in on petals, Shakespeare a frock ‘Then the court jesters sang their ins and k and w e striped suits, Thelr k, with deeply slashed ubl The village maidens, whi ehiefed and with skirts of lavender or palest blue, gave the final dance; then with their green boughs formed an archway through whieh Queen Hlizahbeth and the court passed, ‘There was dancing afterward for all the Vacation Association girls and their guest and musie, eandy and ice er And though there must re doubt as to whether Ssakespeare's ghost was present, his barker was very much on the job, “Complete sets of Shapespeare—just out-no home complete without one,” he pro- clatined with lungs of brass, He, too, would assuredly have won i also fortune-telling m sales, nain some ap- amatist who oval of the poet placidly prophesied “Not arble nor the mona ments Of princes shall outlive my powerful rhyme!" Noveli | with sus preme confidence. “All we've do is to stick to the plea we've made’ I've thrown up my hands— I'm ready to dance to any tune you want to play!” “I don't know what you mean,” said Mary. “Oh, you're clever—I hand It to you “You didn’t want Now quit stalling She acted her And it was not long be- fore Clay was convinced that he had misjudged her. curious effect on him, He had been amused by what he con- Mary's transparent effort to Breen kerchiefs reathed dresses of daffodil and green, Puck, who led t of shade might have waked out of even the boredom induced by centenary cele- brations to smile graciously at these, Plot by George Bronson Howard by Hug zatio © “‘Mona!”’ cried Mary. C. Weir “Poor little Dora— she never did anything that wasn’t right in her life—except to marry a man like Good- win Clay! And she’s come to a horror like this!” “Let’s go to the trial,” answered Mona. ‘‘Maybe we can punish the beast!’ arouse his curiosity. He supposed that he was seeing through her arti- fice, but he had not been at all dl pleased with her resorting to it. Now, however, when he was convinced that she had been telling the truth, that she was really what she pretended to be, a rather guileless little woman, ren- dered unhappy by her husband's de: votion to his art and his jealousy, he was positively delighted, He began to devote himself to her to the ex~ clusion of everything el! “He's quite tame, Mona,” Mary t her chum, one evenin; ‘Says he’ tirea of his old crowd—that he'd rather be with me! And he really doesn’t bother me at all. He takes me out riding, and he says he's really glad that I don't like the big Broad- way restaurant “But he believes that it is because you're afraid Otto will see you?” “Yes! You know—it's a little ridicu- lous the effect Otto is having on him, I talk about him all the time, and he’ @ good deal puzzled. He simply can’t believe that such a man as I make fi Otto out to be can really exist, you see, He doesn't know anything about art—he can't imagine a man who would rather succeed in his art than make a lot of money.” “Where does Clay's money come from?" asked Mona, “He inherited a good deal of it— but he makes @ good deal too. He’ big contractor, and I believe he's a good, shrewd dusiness man, I don't see how it's possible when he dissi- pates the way he does, but that's the report.” ‘ “A contractor—I remember of course. I suppose that means poll- tics, doesn’t it?” “Of course it does! He's in with every crooked and grafting politician in the city, He has the inside track whenever anything big is in the wind. The city pays—and pays “Charming character! But look out, Mary! You've been able to con- trol him very easily so far—be sure that he doesn’t turn on you when you least expect it!” “Ob, I'm all right! I have Otto to protect me, remember! Have you heard anything more of Clay's wife?” “Poor soul! She's utterly crushed, She doesn’t seem to realize, even yet, what has happened. I think she still cares for bim, in some extraordinary way. She thinks he’s been poisoned against her, and tbat if ne could be made to see the truth ne would be sorry!" “He'll _be sorry before we're done with him,” said Mary spitefully. "But it won't be because he has a change of heart! Goodwin Clay isn't the sort who reforms because his better nature conquers him! 1 doubt if he has such a thing left!” “It's nearly time for us to settle with him, once and for all, isn’t it?” asked Mona, “Do you think you're ready? I be- Neve we could go ahead any time now, if you are. Clay is infatuated, if I'm not very much mistaken.” “You needn't wait on my account,” said Mona, “I think I'm as nearly ready as 1 ever will be, and if I wal around thinking about Jt, ['il simply &et_more and more nervous.” ‘here's always that danger when one plans a thing very carefully, said Mary, thoughtfully. “All right, 1 think Otto will have to go out of town with his orchestra on a concert tour in the next day or two. And then Mr, Goodwin Clay can come and call on me in my home--which he has been very anxious to do for some said Mona, to him?" ‘Yes, 1 think 90," sald Mary thoughtfully, “And ‘for the next couple of days I won't see him at all!" “Oh, that's clever!” said Mona, with @ laugh. ‘You'll make him all the more anxious, you mean, so that he will be quite certain to come?” “Nothing about a man of his sort Is ever quite certain,” said Ma: “But L think I'm ag sure of him as it's humanly possible to be, He's given himself away pretty completely. Now Vil see what the effect of worrying him a little is.” “Well—we've got big stakes to play for this time, Mary. His wife's hap- piness and ber whole future depend on the way we work this out. ‘This time, it's certain, we're unselfish! I know I'd never have consented to this adventure except for her.” Nor I!" sald Mary, “Nd matter how bad things were, I'd never have driven a mile with Goodwin Clay for my own sake.” Mary, after maintaining absolute silence and seclusion for a couple of days, finally wrote to Clay. And so quickly that she knew he must have ‘acted as soon as he had read her note, he called her on the telephone. You gave me a fine scare!” he complained, “I thought something had happened to you! Sure you're all right?” “All right—yes,"” she laughed was getting ready to go away see, and he was awful) exact! “Well, he's gone, has he?” aid Clg, he's gone! The coast is clear!” “Well, I'm coming over to see you. M right?” Allves-til be glad. Soon?” In half an hour.” Mary turned from the telephone and nodded to Mona. To a very dif- ferent. Mona, For Muna had trans formed herself mightily. She wore a man's suit, Her hair was lone and fell about her ears and low on her forehead. Her coat Was of velvet; she had deliberately preserved much of the femininity of her appearance, She wore a flowing Windsor tle and a low collar with deep points, And in her hand she had a violin case. “You're perfect, Mona!” said te “You're Otto—just as I've descri him over and over again! Now—get that wild look into your eyes!” Mona practised before a mirror, an@ they both laughed at the effect she produced. ‘Will F do” aid Mona anxiously, If you don't—well, I've been vary badly fooled!” said Mary, “But tn not a bit worrled. Go out now and wait till you see him come. So Mona went out and Mary waited for Clay's arrival. He was on time And so much in awe of her did stand that he was deferential, almost timid in his manner, when she ad- mitted him, He did understand somehow that she was of a finer sort, and that it would be easy to frightea her. So he had toned down his usual rough and boisterous way to a con- siderable degree, It's a relief to have Otto away!” said Mary with a sigh, keeps one constantly at concert pitch, you know! His music makes him 80 nervous, so irritable, that it's al- most impossible live with him without going mad “A fellow like that has got no right to get married,” suid Clay sympa- «0 “He wanted me to co with him at "said Mary. "He threatened me with all sorts of things if I even spol to.a man while he was cone—said he'd have a way of finding out.” “Don't you believe it!" said Clay, confidently. But It was only his voice that was really confident; he looked around nervously, And suddenly, Just as he was about to speak again, there was a loud knock at the door. They stared at ono another; it was repeated with Increasing violence. “It's my husband!” gasped Mary, going white. “He must have played a trick on m “The door's locked—T tried it," whispered Clay. “Keep atill—he may think the place ‘» empty and go away!” The door was locked—but from the outside. The two girls had manipue lated the lock so as to deceive Clay. And now, while Clay and Mary cow- ered fearfully inside, the pounding om the door became more and more vio- lent, until at last It gave way, seem- ingly before a savage assault with the fire extinguisher, but really because Mona had turned the key. The next instant, Mona, in the guise of Otto, confronted them. “Otto—Otto!” wailed Mary. “Don't be angry--Mr. Clay is an old friend— perfectly all right”— And Ciay, just ay Mary had pres dicted, showed his yellow streak. He tried to escape from the frail bat furious musician. But Otto snat @ pistol from the drawer of a tab! and covered him. “Sit down!” he cried in a tense, high voice. Mary went to him and flung her arm about his neck, but Otto cast her off furiously. “I ghall go mad!” he cried. “What shall 1 do, Kill you both? No—thea they would kill me, tc Suddeniy he stared at Clay. “I know you, you wretch!” he cried. “You are notor- jous. You~why, you even perjured If to get rid of your unfortun- stammered Clay. Will you lie now—when you face death?" cried Otto, as if maddene His gyes lighted up. “Ab—I ha iut’Mfe cried. “Sit—write a conte sion, and put in the proofs of yo: perjury! At once—or I will kill you In vain Clay stormed and protes: Otto, flourishing the pistol, threa ened him until he complied. ie he said, when Clay had done. "If you do not to-morrow make reparation to your wife, I will use this. And now-Wwhat will you do for me—for the woman Who was my wife Mary screamed. “You shall provide for her—now that you have driven us apart!” said Otto. “I owe her that much, Write her a check now! And this much Clay was glad to do, “I'd have done that, anyhow,” he growled. - “But you're mad, man! Take her back! She's a good woman!” Otto only sneered. And when the check was written he drove them both out. Mary, shaken and _hysterical—but from her triumph at the complete success of her plans, and not, as Clay supposed, because of Otto's return! went with Clay. He drove with her at once to the nearest restaurant, “You need some supper—that will brace you up,” he said. “It was hard luck having him play a trick Ike that!” ‘ " d get a table—I want to said Mary, distractedly, And, in the booth, she called Mona. In a’ minute she rejoined him, And tt was not long before, to Clay's amaze- ment, Mona herself, in her own clothes, slipped into the vacant chair beside Mary. Slowly he recognized in her the mad musician. But before he could denounce them Mary spoke. ‘For once you been beaten at your own game!" she said. “Yon pretend to be a good sport—prove it by making things right with your wife. And, if you don't—remember that you've given us the evidence that will send you to jail 1f you make us use it! Good night!" They left him, furious, but knowing that they had ontwitted him—that {t was impossible for him to fight, (End of the Seventh Episode.) —— \ctieiimanmmanietaimnaenie, The Publication of the Story, THE SECRET OF | THE SUBMARINE | which was announced to begin in Monday's Evening World, has been postponed until later date.