Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-08-25

field marshal in his knapsack It is this
that has made us the nation we are. Am
| bition Is good thing, and 1t is well to
hitch your wagon to star, If you have the
wagon / decided that l could not trust
the matter to Jerome. Something more
than the subservient willingness of a serv-
ant was needed.
Finding, to my delight, that Mrs. Ran
dolph had gone out, determined to under
take the thing myself, and sent Jerome
away. The next few minutes I spent in
studying the directories and kept the tele-
phone wires hot. Then l sat down in a
fiutter of guilty excitement, like the small
boy who is planning to slip past the
parental eye and play with those horrid
McGinnis children in the neighboring alley
When l thought had waited long enough
l tiptoed downstairs, my breath coming fast
as l did so. The auto-car I had sum-
moned from the garage was there. I could
have shouted when l beheld it. The chauf-
feur put his fingers to his cap in salutation
roostfng on the carved, bronze ratings.
leaped lightly in, taking a seat beside him.
broadway" said; move her along"
l dared not look back. I
The chauffeur moved her alone'' so
quickly that we were a hundred feet from
the house and gathering speed before OBJ
served that he was not the man had ex-
pected. More than once while looking
through the windows Of the library l had
seen Mrs. Randolphs chauffeur
"Hello! l said staring at him. How is
this? You are not Mrs. Randolphs chauf-
feur.'
He looked straight ahead. 1 was sure
Mrs. Randolphs chauffeur was smooth
faced and younger; this man wore a mus
tache and had eyeglasses under his dis
figuring and Disgusting goggles.
II am your chauffeur" he answered CIV
ing the steering wheel a turn and sending
the automobile round an interfering car
riage. you didn't know that?'
He laughed.
Comet cried: this won't do I don't
know you. and 1 won't go any farther.
Stop the auto"
l caught him by the arm
Listen. he said, but without taking his
eyes off the road before him. II am not
Mrs. Randolph's chauffeur, nor YOURS Pm
representative of the Mirror l couldn't
get at you In any other way. The chauf-
feur isn't in 1t and isn't to blame Don't
you want to make statement to the pub
nc! mere are some curious rumors
af1oat. You ought to correct them If Won
have enemies who are lying about you,
why let them do all the talking? DO you
catch on?"
1 had dropped back against the cushions,
GREATNESS.
what are the Tumors?' asked
''That you are not the man you pretend
to be-not Julian Randolph. Hadn't we
better take this cross street-it's not SO,
crowded-and talk 1t over?"
Yes" 1 said. turn that way This is
startling. What else is being reported?"
The automobile crossed Broadway and
headed toward the North river.
The statement carries its corollary, that
you are a deliberate impostor. But I have
heard it limited also that you a mad
man.
He glanced at me-
rs 1t your belief that am a madman?"
1 asked
He grinned, with twitching of his red
dish muStache.
You don't look it,
Then l am either Julian Randolph or a
pretender?"
Just So"
"Who is saying these things about me?'
"They are in the air.
Come 1 urged. eff they are in the air,
somebody's putty-blower put them there.
Who is hep"
IF 1 should say 1 know and tell you, I
might find myself in sling" was his eau
tious answer.
l thought a moment before I answered
while the auto-car swung with a lurch
round a group of needless children.
UNLESS you tell me that l shall tell you
nothing"
"It has been hinted" he said, still eau
tously, that these stories come from the
office of Courtney Lane, Mrs. Randolphs
financial representative. Mind you, l don't
say that this is SO; don't know anything
about 1t. / only heard rumor buzzing
about like a bottle-fly over a bit Of putrid-
lily. AS newspaper scavenger. serving
up odorous morsels to a stench-lovng pub
lie, l was under compulsion to follow the
scented trail of the bottle-fy. Perhaps NV
ears and my nose deceived me- In any
event. to change the metaphor am mere
ly sfphon connecting the dear public with
its sources of information, and as such
have neither thoughts nor feelings. I per
for scci4 Xlx4t