Courier Democrat. (Langdon, N.D.) 1891-1920, 1911-02-16
CHAPTER III.
SHA~KESPEARE's MASTER.

Y ORD LOVELAND's habit was to
give a wide berth to common
people if chance, the democrat,
Ga threw him near them. with the
exception of "Tommies," who for him
as a soldier were a class by them
selves, Il class in which he recognized
humanity that touched his own. He
did not love ugliness or shabbiness.
which as like as not meant microbes.
But he had come down so near to the
depths of reality tonight that he had
no sense of his W superiority or in
clination to shrink away when the
mans hands touched his as they took
the rescued animal.
Il came along in the nick of time,"
said Loveland, land l like dogs. l.
thought l could just do it, and 1 did,"
Loveland, always polite to interiors
unless overmastered by rage, looked
at the bench as if it were the first
comer's property.
IF you don't mind I'll sit down." he
said.
The shabby one laughed. Il amt
paid for my lodgin's," said he. land if
l had you'd be welcome after what you
done. You can have me for a doormat
if you like"
Thanks" said Loveland. laughing
TOO. Il don't need a doormat If it
was an overcoat now
You could have mine if you weren't
twice the size for it and if Anthony
Comstock wouldn't run me in if he
saw what I've got on underneath. But
1 guess you wouldn't have to wish
twice for a Goa if twas in your part"
My part?" repeated Val.
"1f the piece you're in called for it.
But. say. do you want anything out o.
me? Cause if you do you can have
it. If you're a journalist out on a night
stunt and what you're fshin' for is the
history O. my life Pm on for Shake
speare's sake-any form you like, sad
or gay. moral lesson or otherwise"
Hang Journalistic"
think so? Well, millionaire, then.
SEEM how the poor live. You look the
swell all right"
. AIduA yOu. WISH i Lett as l lOOh
then"
You'd make the Gould and Wander
bilt crowd look like visitors if you
hadn't forgot your overcoat."
II left it at the Waldorf-Astoria no.
tel"-
"Sa-ay. if that amt like mel" drawl-
ed the man. the twinkle of moonlight
striking a humorous CLINT in his eye.
kind of absentminded. 1 left my
Sunday suit just that way at the White
House last week. where I'd been spend
ing Saturday to Monday with my
friend Willy T."
You think I'm lying?" said Love
land, with curiosity rather than resent
ment- "They turned me out Of the no.
tel because l couldn't pay for my din
ner."
Had you eat itY'
mo. / wish now I had"
II believe you. Whew-ew-just to
eat once at the Waldorf. You amt a
New Yorker. are you?"
mo; I'm an Englishman," Loveland
answered quickly.
Gee, but you're a swell lookin' en-
igrant! I amt a New Yorker myself
not by birth. l was a hayseed till I
turned nineteen. workin' on my step
fathers farm-mean old skinflint-but
l couldn't see my way to cuttin' till
my mother was gone. Then I footed
1t to-New York-sixty mile-chuck full
OF hope and nothin' else unless beans.''
"a regular Mark Tapley," said Val.
Never played the part. In private
life my names Bill Williams. Some
switches round to Willing Bill, be-
cause ! generally do my days work
without howlin'. I blew into New York
without ~attractin' much notice. and
that's nineteen years ago, and I
haven't attracted much since: that's a
fact. But you may DO better. Dent