Walker Lake bulletin. (Hawthorne, Nev.) 1883-1926, 1902-02-07

CO ii h soft lights of the quiet res
taurant brought rest to Boyn-
toms tired nerves; he picked up
the menu with a sigh of content.
This isn't half bad" he mused, run
ming his eyes down the card though
it sayors uncommonly of poolroom
bulletins; combination one; combina-
ton two'-well," with a smile at the
conceit, reckon I'll play combination
seyen-'lamb chop, griddle cake, ly-
onnais potatoes-a hungry fellow cant
lose much on that-for sure. Hello"
his glance falling suddenly ON large
Japanese screen, partially hiding one
chestra, too; hope they are on a par
with the rest of the appointments. By
jove. they're girls"
In the mirror by the end of the
screen a face had arisen, laughing
girlish face, and its owner, tucking a
fat brown violin under her arm, and
blissfully unconscious of Boyntons
eager scrutiny, proceeded with much
graceful posing and sundry deft and
skillful jabs of long, blackheaded pin
to adjust huge picture hat upon her
small and shapely head.
Evidently she of the merry counte-
nance was trying it on, for she turned
presently as if inviting an opinion
from some unseen companion-and at
that moment she caught the reflection
of Boyton's admiring eyes staring at
her In the mirror.
The smile vanished, giving place to
surprise, annoyance and swiftly grow
ing resentment; but the look of utter
chagrin that flashed over BoyntOn's
face as he realized that he had been
guilty of rudeness was clearly too
much for the young lady's sense of
humor, for after brief struggle, the
stern lines at the corner of her lips
melted into the suspicion of n smile;
with a quick glance-half fun, half
defiance-she suddenly thrust out her
tongue, and with a saucy courtesy at
the reflection of. the discounted Boyn-
ton-she disappeared.
"Well If she isn't peach" thought
Mark, gazing ruefully at the empty
mirror, while curious thrill tingled
along his nerves. what stunning hair
she has. wish l knew who she was;
somehow she seems different from any
girl l ever" He dropped his knife
and fork in astonishment, doubling his
ears.
From behind the screen came the
rollicking notes of familiar rag-time
air, "Why don't you get lady of your
own?" remarked the violin, sarcastic
ally. Mark grlnned in spite of him
self.
III get even for that, young lady,"
he remarked, "or my name isn't Mark
Boynton-I am going to find out who
you are"
During the remainder of his lunch
Mark racked his brain to little pur-
pose, but as he stepped up to pay his
check an inspiration came to him
"Eurckal he calculated.
beg pardon, sir" said the cashier,
politely. "Why, certainly" she said
presently. in answer to Boynton's in
uuiry. "the violin players name is
Miss Sturm-of course you can engage
her; she will be much pleased; whist
party at your sisters you say-please
write her address. assure you Miss
Sturm will be on hand
Mark departed, chuckling. wonder
what she'll say tomorrow night" he
thought, "I'll ask her to play why
don't you get "A lady as I'm sin
ner."
"Awfully obliged for the orchestra,
Mark" said Miss Boynton to her broth
or the following evening. Il never
dreamed of having anything so swell
as that for my whist; don't you think
II a nice idea putting them behind the
rubber plants"
"Great, Sis replied Mark, "believe
III 90 an9 ask them to play something
for me. Here's where take trick"
he muttered. threading his way care
fullv between the little tables
..Will you kindly play, why DON'T
I though Miss Sturm was to be here?'
wound up Mark, leaning against the
piano in surprise.
"But yhas Miss Sturm," replied the
stolid looking, round-face yiolnist.
gazing at dumfounded Mark in mild
wonder