The Bamberg herald. (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, April 07, 1921, Page 3, Image 3
RPNB
SYNOPSIS.
PART I.?Robert Hervey Randolph,
young New York man-about-town, leaves
the home of his sweetheart, Madge Yan
Tellier, chagrined because of her refusal
of his proposal of marriage. His income,
HO.OOO a year, which he must surrender
if a certain Miss Imogen Pamela Thornton
(whom he has seen only as a small
girl ten years before) is found, is not
considered by the girl of his heart adequate
to modern needs. In a "don't care"
mood Randolph enters a taxi, unseen by
the driver, and is driven to the stage
door of a theater. A man he knows,
Duke Beamer, induces a girl to enter the
cab. Beamer, attempting to follow, is
pushed back by Randolph and the cab
moves on. His new acquaintance tells
Randolph she is a chorus girl, and has
lost her position. She is in distress, even
hungry, and he takes her to his apartment
There, after lunch, a chance remark
convinces him the girl is the missing
Pamela Thornton. He does not tell
her of her good fortune, but secures her
promise to stay in the flat until the
morning, and leaves her. In a whimsical
mood, also realizing that the girl's reappearance
has left him practically penniless,
he bribes the taxi driver to let him
take his job, and leaving word with the
legal representative of the Thornton estate
where he can find Pamela, takes up
his new duties under the name of "Slim
Hervey." He loves the girl, but his pride
forbids him approaching her under their
changed conditions.
PART II.?One evening he Is engaged
by Beacher Tremont, notorious profligate,
to drive him and Madge Van Tellier to a
hostelry known as "Greenwood." Aware
of the evil nature of the place, Randolph
drives the pair to Greenwood (jemetery.
Infuriated, Beacher gets out of the cab
and Randolph leaves him there, taking
the girl (who has awakened to a realiza
tion of her folly) to her home. Madge
recognizes him,
PART III.?In Randolph's apartment
Pamela, pondering over the strangeness
of tlie night's adventure, realizes she Is
very much more than interested in the
young man. Next morning Mr. Borden
Milyuns, her family's legal representative,
Informs her of her inheritance. Learning
that her acceptance of the money will
leave Randolph penniless', even the furniture
of the apartment belonging to her,
she proposes to divide the inheritance
with him. Mr. Milyuns tells her Randolph
is unlikely to agree to such an arrangement,
even if found. He, however,
agrees to do his utmost to find the young
man. Wide advertising and the employment
of detective agencies fail to accomplish
this. Madge Van Tellier tells Mr.
Milyuns of her encounter with Randolph.
Knowing only that he is driving a taxicab,
Pamela sets out to find him. The
search naturally is a long one, but finally
she comes upon Randolph in front of a
hotel. Unseen by him she enters his cab,
but when giving the starter her address
Randolph recognizes her voice. The
streets are slippery with snow, and In his
excitement he smashes the cab against
the curb, throwing the girl out
PART IV.?Stopping only to see th&.<t
Pamela is unhurt Randolph flees from
the scene. While he is explaining his
mishap at the office of the cab company
Mr. Milyuns appears. After much persuasion
Randolph agrees to call on !
Pamela nine days after that time. He
Also announces his intention of accumulating
$100,000 in the interval, and arranges
to drive a cab on the Wall Street
beat There, as he had hoped, he picks
up a "tip" on the market His entire i
capital being in tne neignoornooa or *i\j ,
he goes to one of his clubs and sits in a j
poker game, trusting to chance to secure
a stake that will enable him to play the
"tip" he has secured. He is lucky and
runs his capital up to an- amount sufficient
for his needs. His inside information
on the market proves correct and he
closes the deal with the sum he had de- j
cided It" was necessary to have in order
to meet Pamela on a footing of equality. !
Punctual to the minute he calls on the |
young lady, who had awaited his coming
with impatience, and at the close of the
interview there is no question of the division
of the inheritance?or the apartment
"Now,
Robert," said the legal personage,
apparently quite oblivious of
the desertion of his supports, "I just
want to talk with you. May I sit
down?"
"Certainly, Mr. Milyuns," said Robert,
apathetically.
"Excuse me," murmured Mr.
O'Shaughnessy. "Did I, or didn't I
get the name correct?"
"I beg your pardon, Tourke," said
Robert, "Mr. Borden Milyuns; Mr.
Tourke O'Shaughnessy." He pronounced
it "O'Shockenssy," to the delight
of the owner's ears, long unaccustomed
to the correct intonation of
the exotic patronymic.
"T did hear correct." said Mr.
O'Shaughnessy, as he rose and tiptoed
from the room. "I leave you
gents to your family affairs," he added
from the door, his eyes drinking
a last view of the brain king he had
dared to call a runt.
During the next half-hour, Mr. Milvuns
delivered himself of an assorted
lot of special pleading that he could
have sold on the market almost any
day for fifty thousand dollars, but the
sole judge and object of his efforts
still sat swinging one putteed leg in
midair, as though fanning aside the
valuable streams of golden words, and
continued putting at one cigarette after
another, each lighted from the
butt of its predecessor.
"Its no use, Mr. Milyuns," said Robert,
at last. "The truth is, and you
know it, that a meeting between myself
and Ram?Miss Thornton, at the
present time and under the exceptional
conditions, could only bring about
complications beyond the capability of
any one of us_ to handle. Her pro
pe
3S-JW/II- CQfflMY
| posal that she divide her income with
I me is so absurd that I am amazed at
your imper?at your hardihood in
even mentioning it"
I Mr. Milyuns wiped his brow for the
first time in many years.
"I don't mind you calling me 'impertinent,'
Robert," he said meekly.
"Call me anything you please. Only"
?and his voice rose gradually to a
surprising volume?"don't forget that
I promised one of the dearest, most
unspoiled, lovable, and wholly adorable
young persons that it's ever been
j my privilege to assure of the impossible
that I would bring you to her,
! and, by the holy mackerel, I will?if
| I have to hold you by one ear with
J my teeth."
Mr. Randolph took his latest ciga!
rette from his mouth during this strictly
illegal peroration, and allowed his
lips to spread into a broad smile.
"Mr. Milyuns," he said, "I always
| did like you; now I've got a deeper
feeling. They call it love. I admit
to the human end of you that the
only thing that keeps me from rushing
straight away to call on the lady
you have so accurately described is the
fact that I haven't money and she
has."
! "But what about the job I offered
you?" interjected Mr. Milyuns.
"I was coming to that," said Mr.
| Randolph. "I'm not keen on charity
from you any more than from Miss
Thornton, but?more than that?I
wouldn't burv myself in your stuffy
old skyscraper at any cash price
known to man. In the first place, you
belong to the most unoriginal of all professions,
and, in the second, you make
money too slowly."
" 'Make money too slowly!'" gasped
Mr. Milyuns, forgetting Bobby and
Pamela and their affairs for the first j
[ time in three weeks, and rememberj
ing, for a change, and with a twinge
of his hardened conscience, the size j
of his last retainer. "Ha!"
But Mr. Randolph allowed him no
time for indulgence in vocal mirth.
"That's what I said," he continued,
unmoved. "To meet Miss Thornton
face to face and unashamed, I feel
that I must have a capital of at least
a hundred thousand."
He sank his head in thought for a
moment When he raised it again,
the widely placed blue eyes were
I there. So was the saddle of faint
freckles across his nose; so was the
guarantee of honesty across his open
face, but superimposed over all was
a new look of sudden resolution.
"You will please tell Miss Thornton,"
he resumed, "that I shall do myself
the honor o. calling on her one
week from the day after tomorrow at
four in the afternoon. There is a
condition, however, and it is that I be
left alone without any mental reservation
by her and you and your agents
during the intervening time."
"One hundred thousand in nine
| days," murmured Mr. Milyuns skeptically.
His great brain hung poised in
i thought for some time, hut finally he
nodded * his acceptance of Robert's
i terms of capitulation and promptly left
: the room.
Mr. O'Shaughnessy presently re!
turned and found his favorite driver
i sunk in strenuous reverie.
I "Well. Mr.?er?Robert, are you
goin' back to the folks?"
i Mr. Randolph raised his head and
| smiled.
j "Call me 'Slim,' please, Tourke?
I 'Slim Hervey,' for awhile yet. I've decided
to accept your offer of another
I wagon for a week or two?that is, if
' you realize you'll be doing me just a
plain, unornamental favor."
I "Sure, kid!" said Mr. O'Shaughnessy,
flushing, as does all his kind on
j the verge of gratitude. "That's all
right."
"Thanks a lot!" said Mr. Randolph.
"And do you mind if I take the Wall
; street beat for a while? I need
| money."
"Why, Slim, what's got ye? Ye
know that's the rottenest short-run
stand in town. Now, ef it's money
you want?" Mr. O'Shaughnessy
reached slowly down into his capacious
trousers pocket, his eyes, meanwhile,
! studying Mr. Randolph's physiognomy
| with a shrewd glint that had fore1
stalled many a clever attempt at a
I . * -
, toil en in yearn j;uiic i>j.
' "Yes, money," said Mr. Randolph
pensively; "a hundred thousand dollars'
worth."
j Tourke's face underwent a startling
j change, as though it had tumbled down
a whole ladder of emotions until it
landed with a jolt on a solid platform
; of infinite pity.
"Take any beat ye like, boy, while
j ye c'n hold the wheel," he said, at
j the same time jambing the brakes
! down bn^his too generous hand. ""Xi?
be sure your ol' frien' Tourke ain't
goin' to forget to come to the hospital
to nee vou"?he finished almost with a
j sob?"often."
I For five restless, heart-breaking
| days, Mr. Randolph and his cab were
| at the beck and call of every short
horn curb-broker that wanted his
j friends and customers to see him start
I away from the scene of others* labors
| in a taxi. The vast assurance that had
| graced him when he allowed Mr. Mili
yuns to infer that nine days was plenty
I in which to pick up a hundred thou:
sand dollars and that had also tinged
I a remark made some weeks before to
! a Miss Madge Van Tellier to the efi
feet that the great thing nowadays
! was to avoid having too much money
i had been gradually worn to a ragged
I frazzle.
Mr. Randolph was on the point of
trying to persuade himself that he was
j giving way to the too constant strain
I ?.r>fVirvr? flion fn ontr rlofopt in hi"? ohil
| iauivi LliUll tv MUJ UV4.VVW +M.+ r
| osophy of the easiness of wealth when
| an excited and hatless elevator boy
! rushed up and said:
! "Here, youse! Mr. Embonpoint Morgum's
car has froze. Ring your ol'
i fire alarm."
Mr. Randolph almost knocked over a
| fare that was attempting to get aside.
"Engaged!" he growled, a9 he
stooped to "turn her over."
Five minutes later, his cab was car;
rying, in the persons of Mr. Morgum,
| above mentioned, and another, the poI
tential pivots of very tight-vested ini
j ..
"Good Idea! Friday It Is."
I terests to the tune of twelve billion
| dollars. It may be thought that It was
| Slim Hervey's intention to waft this
i precious pair to some bosky retreat.
| cover them with leaves, and hold them
for ransom, but such was not the case.
He desired nothing from these two
potentates among a race of lucre
giants beyond what might come to him
through his ever-open speaking slot
! This is all he heard:
[ "Lewisfader is getting kind of
| fresh."
"That's what I been thinkinV
"When?"
"What about Friday, when the Bun|
kers-Bollweevil report comes out?"
"Good Mea! Friday it is."
Not another word, but, as it happened,
it was enough to stnrt Mr. Randolph
honking uptown the moment he
had dropped his laconic fares at their
I next board meeting. No one had to
| tell him who Lewisfader wa9; he had
| been to college with that financier's
I son, and if there was one thing above
j all others that said offspring was good
i at, it was blowing his father's horn.
| Lewisfader was this and Lewisfader
was that, but principally and especial!
ly he was the central rock in the money
! maelstrom known to the stock market
((4 1 TO p. n >? V>Q^ nnl v
MS XlIUcll. X. o. w V^., V> U1VU UUU
lately dared to swell its portentous
belly in the company of the most developed
and vicious saurians of the
I financial world.
i ? _
j All the way uptown, Mr. Randolph's
j face was concentrated in the nearest
j approach to a frown of which it was
| capable. He was not, however, weighing
the substance of what he had heard
this way and that, for the simple reaI
son that the moment the one word,
| "Lewisfader," had reached his ears, he
| had seen the great light and grasped
j his hunch beyond any thought of look|
ing back. That part of it was settled;
I what worried him now was the amount
! of ways and means in his pocket. By
j thinking very hard, he added up his
| capital" without bringing it forth to the
j light of day. The exact sum was six!
ty-eight dollars and fifty cents,
j No sooner had he passed the test in
| mental arithmetic than he drew up a
| little beyond the front door of the Rocki
et club. He started to leave his cab,
j paused, considered, and then deliber!
ately lowered the flag. As he entered
j the lobby of the club, four scandalized
j fronts leaped to bar his way. They
; asked him a variety of biting ques!
"hm ho think ft wns a night
j liVUO JLy*u A4V __ w
j lunchwagon? Which chambermaid
i was he calling on? Was he looking for
i Mills hotel?
I "Herbert!" roared Mr. Randolph,
j The functionary named, head door:
man for the Rocket club since first it
started on its appropriately meteoric
career, leaped from his dignified feat
on the somnolent side lines and stared
I wide eyed at the servile apparition
j that had dared shout the open sesame
i to that inviolate portal.
I "Mr. Randolph 1" he gasped at last,
and the stunned fronts started to slink
| away.
I "Hold on, there!" said Mr. Randolph,
and divested him.fetf of cap to one,
; overcoat to another, gloves to the third,
- and asked the fourth for a light "Her
j bert," he continuedT in" modulated i
I tones, "the cab outside is waiting for !
i Mr. R. H. Randolph. It may be there
I for some time. Have an eye kept on
| it."
| "Yes, Mr. Randolph, m see to It, j
Mr. Randolph. George, Mr. Randolph's ;
letters."
| "Never mind the letters;" counter- !
manded the oft-named one, and pro- ;
reeded to thread his way to a certain
small room strategically placed well ^
j within the depths of the edifice and
far from the maddening tumult of the
i streets. The said apartment at the
moment of his arrival contained five j
j occupants seated round a circular table j
of convenient height and clothed In j
pale green, kindest of all shades to the '
eye of man. There were no mirrors j
on the walls,
i Mr. Randolph's entry was greeted j
first with consternation and then with !
shouts.
i "Bobby, you old scout!"
, "Herv, by great halls of sweat."
! "Randy. from where the devil?"
The speakers arose and pumphandled
Mr. Randolph's arm.
! "Ye gods, man, where you been?
i Strayed in from a fancy dress?*'
| "Never mind the glad rags, fellows,"
said Mr. Randolph. "I was just feeling
lonely for the sound of chips. Room
for another?"
"The surest thing! You don't know
these two chaps, do you? Mr. Seegar,
passed on to us from 'Frisco, and Mr.
Bowling-True, our latest new member.
Gentlemen, this is Mr. Randy Randolph
of New Haven and New York,
in disguise but still the best ever."
i "Table stakes?" murmured Mr. Randolph,
as he took his place, apparently
at random, but at the left of the
two comparative strangers.
! "Of course! Same old ante. Same
old game. You talk as though you'd
been away for a month."
For a moment, but for a moment
only, Mr. Randolph was dazed. Was
it possible that the last three weeks
hadn't been a year? He drew out his
sixty-eight dollars and fifty cents nonchalantly,
as though they were merely j
the loose change he had on his per- j
son, bought fifty in chips, and laid the j
small heap of what was left of his j
cash on the board. The strain on liis !
nerves during the next half-hour put j
that of the five days' wait for a hunch j
? ? o +/-, tVic hlncVi ThPTP '
ULI Lilt* oucci IU uic 1'iuun. ,
came a moment when all his chips I
were gone, and he was forced to see
with a full house for his small pile
of change only.
"Serves you right, Randy," said Mr.
Mein. "For forgetting to pile up the
ready in a table-stake game; there are
two and a half million walking the
streets?"
"Oh, stow it!" murmured Mr. Randolph,
as he counted out his share, I
amounting to ninety-two dollars and i
fifty cents, and pushed across "the rest
of the fat pot to the next best hand.
He looked up and smiled. "Boys," he
remarked frankly, 'Tin riding a hunch
with four legs. Watch me."
Five spectators did, but got little
excitement of their pains. Mr. Randolph
was playing that most difficult
and uninteresting of poker corollaries
?a tight game. Mr. Seegar turned imI
patient as the conviction grew upon
him that he had run up against the
original hard-shell who never drew to
less than a pair of tens, never bluffed,
and could surrender three kings without
a sigh to a low straight unseen.
He began to make facetious remarks
in connection with the safety-first Campaign
which was then at its height
Mr. Randolph nursed his pile
through five long hours up to eighteen
hundred dollars. Then it was that
he suddenly met a raise of two hun
dred on the part of Mr. Seegar, tacked
on three hundred more, waited for
that Individual to throw in his very
good hand, face up, with the resigned
smile of a wise one, and then carelessly
displayed in the same manner, his
own three-flush, so bohtailed that the
attention of the S. P. C. A. should have
been called to the case.
! The roar of laughter that went up
from all but Mr. Seegar was more full
and free than even such occasions
usually produce. Mr. Mein pounded
: Mr. Randolph on the back.
1 "Bobby, old boy," he said, "that was
the eternalest, patienfest, and deepestlaid
trap I've ever witnessed in a lifelong
pursuit of the only national pastime!"
! The light merely flickered in Mr.
Randolph's blue eyes, and he returned
| to his old job of sawing wood. Not
. for nothing had he made that grandstand
flourish, and his object had been
; gained. A new seriousness, masked in
cold-edged, classic poker smiles, settled
upon the table as a whole. The
; idea that they were gathered together
j merely to while away an idle evening
faded into the background, and, one by
! one. like stars coming out at evening
; time, supper trays began to make their
; appearance. All but Randolph, they
j had been toying with poker; now they
j began to play it.
i
! That gentleman continued for the
j nonce the even tenor of his stride exj
cept for a Lenten concession to his
insides. He ordered placed on a stand
at his elbow a large jug of ice water
and a platter containing four dozen
! sandwiches. No added touch could
have done more toward nersuading his
friendly antagonists that he, Randolph,
was out for thick blood. If any one
of the five had joyed in the knowledge
that two slices, thin, of buttered
bread embracing a sliver of meat had
been named eternally after the earl
- - . .
oi sanawien on jusr sucn an ei?uuiai
occasion as this, lie would probably
have seen the high sign and beat it
t for home and bed.
! Night was fast joining the discard
when the weary Herbert dared to interrupt.
"Please, Mr. Randolph, the officer
on the beat says the grass is lifting
?1
'The Officer on the Beat Says the
Grass Is Lifting Your Cab, Sir."
K air oriH Ho tHnna-Ht- Ho
tVUUI V,UUf Oil j auu uv aav
ought to report anything like that."
"Tell him to undo the check and let
it feed itself down again," growled Mr.
Randolph.
The day passed; night fell. Now
one and then another of the six devotees
of a science which even in the
youth of this nation had forestalled all
the wonders of the submarine, the
flight of man, and wireless telegraphy
withdrew just long enough to connect
with the Daily Night bank round the
corner or some other convenient base i
of supplies and returned to set new
money to catch old. But Mr. Randolph
had no occasion to do this. His
heap of chips and cash of the realm
rested on too solid a base of its own.
There may be recorded an amusing
diversion from the serious business in
hand. It was ushered in by the crestfallen
Herbert, who confessed that actual
physical/exhaustion had driven
him to forty winks, during which time
a professional purloiner of motor-car
accessories had stopped, spellbound by
the gigantic sum registered on Mr.
Randolph's taximeter, had promptly
stolen the preposterous clock, and was
now on the club steps offering to settle
with whoever was the interested
gent on a fifty-fifty basis.
Great was the consternation of the
enterprising speculator in theft when he
was confronted by two persons in one;
I namely, Mr. It. H. Randolph, lessee
! of Car No. 1898, and Mr. R. H. Ran|
dolph. alias Slim Hervey. the irate
driver of said cab. His glib tongue,
loaded to the gills with arguments as
to how much the fare would save,
! through the sudden exit of the clock
from the ken of man, tripped hopelessi
ly on this vision of wrath in the shape
! of a driver in whose interests the tick[
er had been faithfully slaving.
It took Mr. Randolph just thirty-two
precious minutes to force the crestfallen
one to replace and readjust the
busy bee of meter readings. When he
returned to the fray upstairs, he noticed
a strange phenomenon of poker?
age, unmistakable age, had settled or
[ the faces of the five youths. He pu.
! his fingers to his own countenance; he
could feel the added years.
The game ended, as do all titanic
battles, in absolute silence. Mr. Randolph
sorted, stacked, tabulated his
winnings, and stuffed them into all the
pockets on his person. He then noted
the hour?eleven o'clock of a bright
Thursday morning?and, proceeding to
the nearest telephone booth, called up
Mr. William Verries of Verries & Cat,
stock brokers.
"That you, William? This is Bob
Randolph. William, I've got sixteen
thousand dollars in my jeans at the
moment of speaking. What's the lowest
margin you'll give me to sell Amal.
I. S. & C. short for delivery at tomorrow's
closing?"
"Sell Amal. I. S. & C. short!" gasped
Mr. Verries. "Why, you're crazy!
Buy, and I'll talk to you."
"I don't want to buy," said Mr. Ran
I dolph patiently. "You're rignt, in a
way, about my being crazy. You see,
since you saw me the other clay, I've
come into some easy long stuff, and it's
just ruining my experiment in the
philosophy of a moneyless life. I want
to lose ray wad just like I told you,
and if you don't promise to start selling
for me inside of the next five minutes,
I'll let friendship slide and call
up some real brokers."
"Well, if you put it in that way, you
escaped loon, I'll assist your sap-headed
philosophy to your exact cash limit
When will you pony up?"
"In twenty minutes by the clock,"
said Mr. Randolph cheerfully, and rang
off.
The historic pounding drive on
Amal. I. S. & C. that started with the
opening of the market on the following
day was of such Homeric proportions
that the advance sale made by
j Messrs. Verries & Cat on behalf of
Mr. R. H. Randolph during the Thurs- i
day afternoon next preceding was a I
mere drop in the bucket of oblivion to |
I the public at large?a mere flea-bite j
j lost in the shuffling of epidermises to j
j the monster saurians involved in the j
j combat; but to Mr. Randolph, it was a |
I matter of transcendent importance.
With a feeling of great relief over
an order that he had placed with his
tailor nine days previously for complete
new afternoon and evening outfits,
the successful hunchbuster collected
one. hundred and thirty-two
?
%
thousand, thirty-eight and no hundredths
dollars and proceeded to turn
in his wagon to the Village Cab company,
together with the highest clock
reading ever known in the history of
Manhattan. He then chartered one of
the vehicles for hire of that concern
and directed it to carry him to his
new clothe*
At ten minutes to four, he emerged
from his tailor's, garbed in the very
latest thing in slim-line morning coats,
a top liat, pearly-striped trousers,
spats, a mottled, platinum-handled,
snakewood stick, and a gardenia in his
buttonhole. Ignoring the wise and
friendly-sneering look on the face of
the cab driver, who was none other
than our old friend of saturnine visage,
Patrick O'Reilly by name, fallen
on evil times, and re-engaged that very
day on Mr. Randolph's recommendation,
he gave a certain address in
Fifty-ninth street.
Let us now break one of the cardinal
rules of narrative for cash by
ruthlessly switching the objective point
of view. Behold Miss Imogene Pampifl
Thornton dressed in a ravish
lng, modestly modern tea-gown effect
that would have cost her great-greatgrandmother
a ducking in the pond off
Bleecker street if she had dared to
wear it in her day at a fancy-dress
ball, pacing up and down Mr. Randolph's
recent sitting room and counting
off nine on her fingers for the
hundred and eighty-sixth time.
And then, at last, the bell! Tomlinson,
his jaw set grimly, advanced
upon the door. For an agonizing
i
"Wo-won't You Sit Downf
small moment, Pamela held htr
breath, and then let it go with a
rush as she heard the old valet's sonorous
voice tinged, nay, reeking, with
the joy of welcome.
"Glad to see you back, Master Robert.
Miss Thornton will receive you
In the sitting room." Followed jingling
sounds as Tomlinson disconnected
the doorbell.
He was right in surmising that his
former employer did not require a
suide, but, as it turned out, there was
no reason why he sho.uld not hav?
witnessed the very proper meeting
which took place between the two outwardly
cool young members of society
who were inwardly, nevertheless,
seething with more emotions than
there are fume* in a lime-kiln.
"Miss Thornton!" exclaimed Mr.
Randolph, as, from force of long _
habit, he laid hat, stick and gloves
on a side table and then advanced
with a tentatively outstretched hand.
"Oh, how do you do?" asked Pamela,
rising and offering her hand.
"Wo?won't you sit down?"
"Thank you; I will."
He took the other end of the couch,
crossed his legs in an effort to appear
thoroughly at home, and gazed almost '
furtively at the apparition before him.
Ye gods and heaps of daffodils! What
a vision of loveliness, of charm,
grace, breeding, carriage and nurtured
beauty! What a bubbling well
of mirth; what a source of the light
of youth that never fails; what an
armful of divine delight!
"Er?I?er?told Mr. Milyuns Td
nail" sflid Mr. Randolph.
"Yes?"* eagerly countered Miss
Thornton.
"Er?I?said I'd be here at four,"
supplemented Mr. Randolph.
"Yes; he told me," murmured Miss
Thornton, not quite so ardently.
"Er?it's just four now," stated Mr.
Randolph.
"So it is," agreed Miss Thornton
quite coolly, glancing at the clock and
registering surprise?tone quite calm
and dignified.
A long silence intervenes. The lady
could easily break it, but won't. She
has gathered somewhere that silence
is often a club. Mr. Randolph evidently
shares the intuition; he must
say something and does.
"I've been very busy since I saw
you last."
"How Interesting!"
"Yes; it has been?in spots. I've?
er?been studying the under side of
the upper world througn a noie xu mc
front glass of a taxi. It has given me
a great idea."
"Really?"
"Yes; I'm going to start the Manhattan
Chaperoned Cab company."
"The what?" asked Miss Thorntop,
forced to show interest in the preposterous
project in spite of the fact that
her eyes were growing more and more
wounded and the corners of ?er treni