The evening world. Newspaper, December 31, 1921, Page 15

oo ae as a; father before. They—she peeped _hesi- tatingly at Buffum before saying it-- they had a coat of arms, but Apogee folks didn't think much of armorial bearings, t “Have you been on the Cape your- self?" Buffum queried. ‘I, remember driving through Harlepool, but I don't recall anything but white houses and a meeting house with a whale of a big steeple.” “The’dream of my life has been to go to Harlepool. Once, when father had to go to Boston he did run down there by himself. That's when he brought back the portrait of the grand- father, and the painting of the old house, and the furniture and all. He said it made him so melancholy to see the changes in the town, and he never would go again; then—he died. I'm saving up money for a trip back East. I do believe in democracy, but at the same time I feel that families like the Riverses owe it to the world to set an example, and I want to find my own people again. My own people!” “Moybe you're right. I'm from the soil. Di-rect! But somehow I can see it in you, same as I do in the portrait of your grandfather. I wish I—well, never mind.” “But you are an aristocrat. You do things that other people don’t dare to. While you were telephoning I saw our school principal, and he said you were a feudal thane and an Ajax kinds of'’— “Here! Now! Quit! Stop! Wait! A lot of people, especially on newspapers, give me a lot of taffy just What T need fine, ana all You! because I can drive fast. is some one like you keen—to make me realize what a roughneck I am.” She looked at him, pondered: “I'm Apogee boys think I’m rather prim.” That’s why and most of the clear eyed, afraid “They would! they’re stuck in Apogee.’ Buffum searched her eyes and speculated: “I wonder if we aren't alike in this way. Neither of us is content to plod. never even think of why ing, They reckon and guess and s'pose Most people they're liv- that maybe some day they'll do better, and then—pbing!—they’re But you and I—I seem—I've known you a long time. Will you remember me?" dead, “Oh, yes. enty-an-hour people in Apogee!” There aren't so many sey From the gate Roy lowing: Buffum was on his feet, drawing on his gauntlets and looked at him gravely, while he urged: “Going on, Day from now, the sttain will begin to kind of get me. Will you think about me then? Will you wire- less me some good thoughts?” “Yes!'""—very quietly. He yanked off his big gauntlet, [He felt her hand fragile in his. Then he was gone, marching down the walk, climbing into the car, demanding of Roy: “Look over oll and battery and ev’thing?” “You bet. We did everything,” said the garage man, “Get a little rest?” “Yes. Had a chance to sit in the shade and loaf.’ “Saw you talking to Aurilla Riv- ers"—— Roy interrupted: boss. Shoot!” Buffum heard the garage man out: “Fine girl, Aurilla is, Smart ’ whip. She’s a Born and brought up here, too.” “Who's this that Miss Rivers is en- gaged to?” Buffum risked.* Bender was bel- “Ready in two minutes, boss!" She leather coat. “All right, al right, sa real swell. “Well, I guess probably she'll marry Rev. Dawson. He's a dried-up old stick, but he comes from the East. Some day she'll get tired of school teaching, and he'll grab her. Marry in haste and repent at Reno, like the fel- low says.” “That's right. G'by.” Buffum was off. Fix up the bill, Roy? Five minutes later he was six and three-quarters miles away. In his but one thought—to make up the lost time; in his eyes was no vision save speedome- ter and spark lever and the road that rushed toward him. A little after dark he Roy: ‘Here. Take her, some sleep.” He did sieep, for an hour then struggling into full wakefulness, mind was rumbled at Going to get THE EVENIN G WORLD'S FICTION he dug his knuckles into his eycs like a little sleepy boy, glanced at the speedometer, laid a hand on the steer- ing wheel and snapped at Roy: “All right. Move over,” . T dawn nothing existed in the world save the compulsion to ke@p her at top speed, The earth was shut off from him by a wall of roar and speed. He did not rouse to human feeling even when he boomed into Columbus Circle, the breaker of the record, He went instantly to’ bed; slept twenty-six and one-quarter hours; “ONLY GOT TWENTY-SEVEN MINUTES MORE... . HEAR THE JAPAN STEAMER WHISTLING—CALLING US?" then, in beautiful evening clothes and a club haircut, he attended a dinner given to himself, and blushing before the sleek young Broadway motor sales- men, he made a speech that was un- usually incohe:ent, because all through he remembered that he was due in San Francisco in eight days. He was to sail for Japan, and a road race round the shore of Hondo. Before he re- turned Aurilla Rivers would undoubt- edly have married the Rev. Mr. Daw- son, have gone to Cape Cod on her wedding trip. She would think only with disgust of large men with grease on their faces. He could take one day for the trip up and back. He could get to Cape Cod more quickly by motor than by train. He was going to have one more hour with Aurilla on his way to San He would be more inter- esting to her if he could gossip of her ancestral background. He could take pictures of the place to her, and per- haps an old chair from the mansion, As he drove down Front Street in West Harlepool he saw the house quite as it had appeared in Aurilla's picture, with the name-board of a wrecked ship over the woodshed, the Penninah Sparrow. Down the road was 4@ one-room shop with the Francisco. sign, “Gaius Bearse, Gen’l Merchandise, Clam Forks, Windmills and Souvenirs.” Out on the porch poked a smallis!: man Suffum am- SECTION bled toward him and saw that the man was very old, “Good morning. This Cap'n Bearse?” inquired Buffum, “I pe.” . “Uh, wh! Say—uh, Cap’n, can you tell me who’s living in the Rivers man- sion now?” “The which mansion?” “Rivers, The house across there.” “Huh! That's the Kendrick house.” “But it was built by a Rivers.” “No, ‘twa'n't. That house was built by Cap'n Cephas Kendrick, in 1810, and there’s been a Kendrick living in it ever since. Owned now by William Dean Kendrick. He’s in the wool busi- CAN:T YOU ness in Boston, but his folks comes down every summer. I ought to know, The Kendricks are kin of mine.” “B-but where did the Riverses live?” “The Riverses? Oh, them! Come from.the West, don't ye? Spend the summer here?” “No, What makes you think [I come from the West?” “Rivers went out there. Bradley Rivers. He's the one you're thinking “Friend of yours’’—— “No, Just happened to hear him,’’ “Well, I'll tell you. There never was any Rivers family.” “What?” “The father of this here Bradley Riv- ers called himself Zenas Rivers. But iand, Zenas's right name was Fernav Ribeiro. He was nothing but a Porty- gee deckhand. Fernao, or Zenas, be- came a wrecker. He was a good hand in a dory, but when he was drinking he was a caution for snakes. He came straight from the Cape Verde Islands.” “T understand Bradley Rivers’s an- cestors were howling aristocrats and came over on the Mayflower.” “Maybe so, maybe so. Aristocrats at lrinking Jamaica rum, I guess. But they didn’t come on no Mayflower— Zenas Rivers came over on the brig Jennie B, Smith!” “IT understand Zenas owned this about this SATURDA’, DECEMBER 81, 1921. 8 Kendrick house.” “Him? Why, boy, if Zenag or Brad either ever set foot acrous the thresh- old of that house it was to fill the woodbox, or maybe: sell lobsters!" “B-but—what kind of looking man was Zenas?"” “Thickset, dark-complected real Portygee.” “Didn't he have a Roman nose?” fellow “Him? Huh! Had a nose like a herring.” “But Bradley had a Roman nose. Where'd he get it?” “From his maw. She was a Yankee, but her folks wa'n't much account, So she married Zenas. Brad Rivers al- ways was an awful liar. He come back here about seven-eight years ago, and he boasted he was the richest man in Kansas, or maybe 'twas Milwaukee.” “Did he buy a picture of the Ken- drick mansion while he was here?” “Believe he did. He got one of these artists to paint a picture of the Ken- drick house. And he bought a coupla of things of me—a horsehair sofy and a picture of old Cap'n Gould that, May yould left here.” “Did—did this Capt. Gould in portrait have a Roman nose? side-whiskers? Stern-looking?” “That's him. What's Brad been tell- ing you, boy?” the And “Nothing!” sighed Buffum, “Then Rivers was just a plain dub? Like me?” “Plain? Brad Rivers? Well, Zenas sent Brad to schoo) to Taumton for a year or so, but just the same, we al- ways allowed he was so ordinary that there wa'n't a dog belonging to a Ken- drick or a Bearse or a Doane that would bite him, Ask any of tic old codgers in town.” “T will, but—thanks.” s * * Iie came down the Apogee stree:, in- conspicuously throug): the dust, a large, amiable man in a derby. He had only fifty-one minutes befora the return of the Apogee brancli train to the junction to connect with the next express westward. He rang; he pounded at the front door; he went around to the back, and creeping there he discovered Aurilla's myther, washing napkins. She looked at hia over her spectacles, and she sniffed, "Yes?" “Do you remember I came tlhirough here recently? Racing car? I wanted to see Miss Rivers for a moment.” “You can't. She's at school, teach. ing.”’ “When will she be back? li’s 4 now.” “Maybe right away, maybe not (ill 6." IS train left at 4.49. He waited on the front steps. [t was 4.21 when Aurilla Rivers came along the walk. He rushed to her, his watch in his hand, and before she could speak he was pouring out: ‘‘'Member me? Darn glad! Got less 'n twenty-eight minutes before have to catch train San Francisco steamer Japan possibly India afterward glad to see me please oh please don't be a Rivers be Aurilla just got twenty-seven ‘n’ half minutes glad?” “Why—why—ye-es’’—- “Thought about me?” “Of course.” “Ever wish [ might come shooting through again?” _“You're so egotistical!” “No, just in hurry. Only got twenty- seven more! Ever wish I'd come back? Oh—please! Can't you hear the Japan steamer whistling—call« ing us?” ‘Japan!" “Like to see it?’ “Terribly.” “Will you come minutes with me? I'll have a preacher meet us on the train, I¢ you'll phone to Detroit, find out all about me. Come! Quick!. Marry me! Just twenty-six and a half ‘more.” She could only whisper in answer, “No. I mustn't think of it, It tempts me. I've thought of you—and the beautiful adventure—flying off half round the world. never consent.” “What has your mother to do’——~ “Everything! With our people, the individual is nothing, the family’s sa- cred. I must think of Bradley Rivers, and old Zenas, and hundreds of fine old Yankevs, building up something go But mother would Order Your Evening World in Advance