The Salt Lake tribune. [volume] (Salt Lake City, Utah) 1890-current, 1910-12-25

oon Z rh1nk he Is. | expect some
body must have brought him in, only
the row. Well, he was sitting over
there by the fire, and q cbap-young
Charlesworth they say he is-csme in,
and called Watson all the names he
could lay his tongue to for not paying
up some money he'd lost to him at
cards. didn e hear all the boy said
but. as far as ] could make it our,
young 'un at different times, and had
it; but when he lost he never paid. I
distinctly heard Charlesworth sey, 1T g
the third time; let the first two slide,
but ! want some money myself now,
and you've got to pay this time. I'm
sick of your excuses. It's ridiculous
to pretend you haven't got 500 Wat
son said he hadn t got it about him,
and began to blusteE: The boy said
his check book. The boy simply rang
for blank club check form Watson
filled it up; but the boy, when he had
looked at it, called him dirty thief,
and said he hadn u asked for q post
dated check. And then the real slang.
ing match began, and finally Watson
had to own up that he had been specu
hadn't any money at his bank, and was
broke to tho world.''
"Well, I'm glad to hear it. L owe
him fair-GEed grudge myself said
Kynnersley.
Sir John hnished his tea and toast,
but the convensation with his neighbor
tagged, for the baronet was evidently
deep in brown study. At eight he
dined; but be was absent minded, and
never noticed that the waiter brought
| the fish second time In lieu Of the
pUtraA o IF II rIo
| and looked surprised when he was re-
monetrated with for playing with the
| red ball. The truth was, Sir John g
clever brain was busy Matching out
little plan, and he had but scant atten
ton to spare for other matters Fin
ally he put down his cue and returned
to the smoking room, and hour after
chair gazing into vacancy, putting up
rings Of smoke to the ceiling, and
thinking hard. Sir John felt he must
verify his recollections about the facts
relating to the inmates Of a certain
house, As yet his information was only
second hand.
A few days later, Mr.. Keighley Wat
son descended from his bedroom in a
very bad temper to the unappetizing
breakfast of eggs and bacon which
awaited him in the seIf-styled fash
race, Bayswa5er, which he made his
home. Several letters chiefly bills
but none of them of q pleasing nature
were lying by the side of his plate
when be came downstairs, and a hur
ried perusal of them only served to
make has temper q little more irritable
than it had been previously. The sole
occupant of the room when he entered
it was Miss Janet MacTavish, ono of
tho ra hot o11,y would hn ynut hf,l ~
sters for whose especial benefit the
boarding house seems to have been ere
ated
Miss MacTavish was fifty, and the
daughter of pork butcher. and her
life was passed in endeavoring to con
ccal both facts. For many months she
had looked on Mr.. Watson: with
favoring eye had her little ingratiat-
ing smiles been directed towards him
She it was who, if Mr.. Watson came
late to breakfast, had kept his bacon
and coffee hot.
Once, when the other boarders had
MacTavish had, with great difficulty
and much struggling with a short fork
and a tiresome fire, made him some
fresh toast. Hope springs eternal in
the feminine breast,' and in spite of
scant thanks and sometimes severe
snubs from the ungrateful barrister,
Miss MacTavish believed that his sen,
timents towards her were, at least,
not unkindly. She greeted him this
morning eagerly.
"Oh, Mr.. Watson, 1 though you were
never coming. See, I've kept your ba.
con under this plate, and your coffee is
here
Watson scowled ooh, do wish you
wouldn t bother. Don t want any,
The poor lady 's face fell "But you
must, she faltered, and took the plate
off the unfortunate rasbers Of bacon.
90 1T really isn't cold. Do try it.''
Watson sat down. "Oh, all right
he said, ungraciousIy. "Hand it over
here Beastly stuff they do give one
here. | shan t stay much longer
You wouldn't leave. surely, Mr..
Watsop7 Oh, how we should all miss
you! You know it wouldn't be the
same place without YOU
Poor Miss MacTavish! Her face was
not intended by nature to pour forth
these sweet nothings. Watson looked at
her, al the features of the plaipest and
hardest Scottish type, The ugly gray
hair strained back from tbe high, mar
row forehead. and scowled again. There
was something about Miss MacTavisb
that was physically repellent 10 him.
| ''Don ( see what it, matters TO you.
he grunted ''I don Z want to be rude,
Miss MacTavIsb, but for goodness sake
let me 90 on with my breakfast.
Well, you might have thanked me
for keeping il warm plaiutlvely said
! ''I don Z thank you, said Watson,