Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1908-07-16

to us? ?" she demanded h%oarsely.
Her shrewd, beady eyes met Guys
glance in a fash of interrogation.
Thank you" say Guy, in her ear.
Pushing on, he heard some Kisses,
and half a dozen threatening muir
murs An impulse seized him to turn
and confront them, to say what he
thought of ghouls who batten upon the
dead lives of fellow creatures. Day
after day, these people had waited for
hours, as playgoers wait outside the
pit Of some popular theatre, to see him
~vivisected. And in the private gallery
to the left of the judgment seat, the
gallery to which the friends of those
Of authority had access, Guy had rec
ognized men with whom he had shot
and hunted, women with whom he
had danced. He had known one great
lady very intimately as a child. She
had adored him, as kinder and hand
somer than anyone else. How could
she come to see him rolled in the
mire? The groundlings knew no bet
ter, but the others-his friends!-
could he shake them by the hand
again?
Passing st. Clement Danes, the fog
grew thicker, and the light from the
lamps 1ared f1tfully. The Strand was
more crowded than usual, as Charters
looked in vain for an empty hanson.
A chill breeze, sweeping up from the
river, reminded him that his feet and
hands were freezing cold, while his
head seemed to be in flames. He
decided to walk home to his fat over
looking Hyde Park, where Edward
was awaiting him.
AS he walked he heard his name
on the lips of the newsboys.
"Hextra speshul! tempest divorce
easel! Verdict! Portrait of the CO
respondent!!!"
One imp thrust his wares within a
few inches of Guys nose, with a raul
cous "Ere y'are! One 'a'penny!" To
silence importantly, Charters bought
a paper. The boy stared at him ad-
miringly, recognising the toff, the real
sport, who never asks for change. His
gr1my paw closed over the %sixpense;
his sharp eyes twinkled as Guy quick
ened his pace.
Thank We, sir. we've got a tan
ner's worth this time"
At the next lamp post Guy glanced
at his portrait with grim satisfaction,
~ oihill uoWh IL oIIdIlu he udu
been conscious that he might be rec
ognized. Nobody would recognize him
from this. He smiled derisively, re-
lecting that the portrait" represented
quite adequately the public concep-
ton of him. Certainly he looked what
the vast majority of his fellow coun-
trymen believed him to be-the big
gest blackguard in England.
A fouy minutes lofo. - -,,- -. nh
Mall, approaching the Wayfarer's
Club. Coming down the stone steps,
slowly pulling on his gloves, a tall,
thin man, with a keen, kindly face,
saw Charters, and drew himself up
rather stiffly. Both men nodded sim
ultaneously, hesitated for an appre-
cable moment, and went their ways
In opposite directions. Guy walked
on with his head in the air; the othe.
looked back twice. "He nearly cut
me- Guy was saying to himself.
Ought to have spoken?" was the
lnsistent thought of the other; for
Guy and he had been friends at Elton
and Oxford, and afterwards, although
Of late the friendship had cooled
somewhat. lacking the friction of con-
slant intercourse.
Farther down, Guy encountered a
second a This fellow was highly
esteemed as zone OF the best" a
thruster in the pursuit of foxes and
pleasure; a big, red-faced, heavy
1oWled, pouter-breasted major of Ian
GERS, a son of Venus and Mars, who
had never shirked a battle or a bottle.
and, as he put it, "had done himself
top-hole' ever since he Joined his reg
iment.
This splendid person greeted Guy
with boisterous affection as "Old
Sport" Guy was entreated to dine,
DO a show, and sup-make a memora-
Bile night of it, in short.
ANY fool can see o want buckin'
up. my boy"
II an very late for an appoint.
ment,' said Guy. "You are very kind,
| OUT
The big fellow winked knowingly.
"Of course" he said ~ might have
guessed that. Well, she'll buck you
up. By-by! Your W pals are with
you to a mani"
His own pals?
The question bit deep. The major
had spoken with conviction-with fin
ality. He, and innumerable others
like him, were Guys pals now. How
had it come to pass? BY what i'm
p~erceptible process had he lost the
friendship and kindly faced Wayfarar
and gained instead the patronizing
goodwill of this swashbuckler? And
III the Wayfarer had asked him to
dine, would he have refused?
When he reached his fiat. Pixton,
his servant, was awaiting him. The
man had a pale, wooden, inscrutable
face, thin lips, INT a pessimistic ex-
preston due to chronic dyspepsia.
Pixton came from Saffron Charters,
one of Edwards people the son, in
deed, of the head gamekeeper. Guy
had taken him and trained him be.
cause he provoked pleasant memories.
some of them connected with ferrets.
Pfxton, once a slip of a lad, now
weighed fourteen stone. Guy was
never able to determine whether or
not Pixton preferred London to SAT-
from Charters. Whenever he said, in
his pleasant, gentle voice: 81 say, Pix
ton, don't You wish we were boys
again, standing outside the Terrace