The Daily Ardmoreite. [volume] (Ardmore, Okla.) 1893-current, 1911-11-06

was not an artistic fight by any
means. for il involved sudden spring
up a pair Of stone steps, and quick
leap over the iron railing in front.
But as an exhibition of agility 1t took
high rank.
"lI'm." mused Marston. as he drank
his black coffee and toyed with some
extra loud cheese. las a getaway
artist Jules can have my vote any old
time. He sure can"
Presently Marie arranged her hat.
gave a coquettish twist to her jacket
and went out the door. Marston did
not see her 20. for at the moment he
was full OF a dozen ideas for getting
work. His days OF dreaming were
over; he yas going to be practical
The proof Of which was that as he
put on his hat he arranged 10 return
to the "Maison PerdreauX" next day
to compose g reply to the lawyers let
ter; in return for which he was 10 re-
ceive another free dinner.
The quiet side.street was flushed
with soft spring sunshine as he
emerged from the cave-like dimness
of the old-fashioned basement. And,
leaning against the iron railing, the
picture of woe, was Marie.
Marston had been so occupied with
plans for improving the condition OF a
member of the dry-goods trade that he
had almost forgotten Marie Now it
came to him with a start that, despite
himself he was back in the region OF
poetry and romance.
He gave sharp glance at the little
heap of ashes on the sidewalk, left
from the cremation of John Keats;
and, on the instant. there came back
TO him the scene of the morning, the
scowlinG 1oor-walker. the ring of I'M
friendly faces. his lonely wal up the
avenue. He shook his fist at the little
pile Of ashes. :.
"Nevcr again" he muttered hoarse'y.
She caught him by the arm. Her
moist dark eyes, full of tears, turned
UP 10 his. as she poured forth a tor
rent of French.
Marston, whose ignorance of French
was abysmal, nodded wisely. "Petter
get that talk out of your system, little
girl, he advised.
Marie, evidently under the impress
sion that he was yielding to her per
suasive powers. redoubed her elo-
quence. gesticulating furously, and
pointing down the street.
"lf was afflicted with language like
that. I'd take the cure" Marston as
sured her.
Her face lit up with joy; she caught
p him by the arm and began TO drag
him down the street.
But Marston stubbornly shook his
head. y amt old Sleuth, and ! amt
q hero" he said firmly. And I'm
going chasing a job and not French
barber"
The girl looked wistfully up in his
face. but Marstou, under the influence
of the little green bird, was obdurate.
Then she opened her mouth-a pretty
little mouth, with cherry-red lips, as
Marston observed-and turning to the
"Maison perdreaux" made gesture of
! eating.
Dinner" said Marston aloud. He
held Zip one finger and the girl smiled
assent.
Narston consulted the message OF
TIE little green bird. "Be practical and
you will succeed" He shook his head
sternly and held up three fingers.
Marie hositatcd a moment; then she
nodded her agreement. She held up
three slender fingers and motioned TO-
wards tie "Maison PerdreauX." Mars
Ton nodded once more and the strange
bargain was concluded.
They went slowly down the street
towards Seventh Avenue, Marston
e,lincntly satisfied with the luck the
little Green bird had brought him. His
satisfaction. indeed, increased until
the French barber-shop was reached:
and there. al sight of the erring
Jules's tall figure and decidedly bony
bands IT very abruptly dwindled away
10 nothing and disappeared.
Jules was surveying himself in q
mirror, his face pale and sulky. To
MaTston's hasty glance his gray-clad
figure seemed at least seven feet tall,
and his shoulders of formidable
breadth He turned at their entrance
ard scowled AT Marie.
We've come for that twenty" an
nourced Marsion with an offhand air
NEl'1 ne Hdu Copleu llUu tIic ilOOl-
walker.
Jules stood silently surveying them,
his pallid face beginning to be slowly
overspread by faint flush. Then, ut
terirg some words in French, he
caught Marie sharply by the arm. with
a grip so painful that the girl began
10 scream. At the moment, with the
courage Of matinee idol, Marst0n
flung himself forward.
When he came to a few minutes
Iator he was sitting in a red-plush
chair. and Marie was Eathing his fore
head with bay rum, while a little man
in = white apron was holding a towel
to his bleeding nose.
"nid set him." he asked anx'ousIv
"nii the canary get the cate" re-
tcrted the man Of the apron. Marie
yelled 50 he stopped pounding you and
ran
N3rs+on touched his nose. which
seemed 10 have enlarged while he
slcpt. a man often gets stung by
chance blow" ne said airily.
The Frenchman in the apron who