Custer weekly chronicle. [volume] (Custer City, S.D.) 1890-1931, 1907-11-16
THE MARATHON MYSTERY
A STORY OF MANHATTAN.
BURTON z. STEVENSON
Holaday Cadets OF Gasoony," Etc.
A STORY OF MANHATTAN.

Drysdale. drawn by some compelling
uneasiness, approached them. Ire
maine had been turning over the music
as he talked; his ears, sensitive as a
eats, caught the sound OF Drysdale' 8
footsteps
Shah we try this one" he asked
aloud, and placed sheet on the rack
before her.
Without answering, che swept into
the prelude.
d" 'Youn love me yet,-aud I car tarry
Your loves protracted growing.
June reared that bunch OF flowers you
carry
From seeds Of Aprlrs sowing
His voice was an admirable tenor.
and he sang the lines with mean
iLg and expression that brought the
warm blood 10 her cheek When II was
done he acknowledged the applause
with little bow casting at Drysdale
a glance at once triumphant and ironic.
And in hat instant, Drysdale knew
that the song had not been chosen by
ChanCc-that TTcmaine had paused
10 listen at the stair head. A sudden
abyss yawned before him here was a
rival who would pause at nothing,
WHO already had about him Ger
his teeth with a quick breath we'll
he would make the fight of his life TO
keep what he had won
More, more, clamored DelrOy.
You could make your fortune as "a
stage lover TremNine"
All. there is "a difference between
the sham and the true said Ire
maine, i'm q tone fun Of meaning You
are an excellent accompaust Miss
Croydon. you know how to humor the
singer. and / need lot Of humor-
ing"
"Win you give them an eucorc@"
she asked, disrcgardiug the compli-
weuL
"LeI me see" he was looking at her
with eyes wonderfully bright There
is simple little melody they sing
al ST Pierre AT the time Of the earn
iVal | think YOU could accompany it,
and he humned the air Splendid
That is IL. You win think the words
pretty III sing them as they We're
written, not as the Creoles have
changed them.
Peuts amoureuN aux pmmes,
Enflnts dun brilliant soiour.
Aous iEuOreZ IImcrrume
Nous parlez souveut damUur.
NOus meprisrZ IN dOruTe.
Les salons. 90 les biiouN;
Gus Chcrlssoz la Nature.
beuts oiseauN, bccquetez-y ous''"
60 on. gu on, don't stop" cried
Dolroy. There must be another verse.
Il wouldn't Doe French song il there
wasn't"
There is" and Tromaine laughed,
as usual one that points moral
| hadn't intended TO sing it-hut with
your permission. Miss Croydon
She nodded, as she ran lightly
through little improyised interlude.
DrySdulC. from the other end OF the
piano. wondered how DeToy could sud
denly develop such poor taste. IRE
maine glanced at him, as he began the
second verse. then he turned his eyes
upon Miss Croydon, smiling
'Noyez Ia has. dams ceite eglise.
Aupres d'uu confessional
lie protre qui yeut faire croirc a Lise,
Qu'uu brIiser est un grand NAL.
Pour prOuvcr a Ia miguOnDe
Gu'un baiser bieu fait. bien douN
| "a jamais damne persoune,
Petits o.seauN, becquetez-vous!
Capital" cried Delroy. What next? ?
'ome-the third verse;"
But Miss Croydon rose abruptly from
the piano.
No" she said; II protest I've no
doubt it goes from bad TO worse. I'm
afraid TO listen"
You are wrong, Miss Croydon" said
Tremaine smiling fun into her eyes.
You do me an injustice | assure
you there is no third verse" and he
joined the DeToys where they sat be-
fore the ire