Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-12-31

miracle that Twombley found her more or less enter
tainin Besides Kitte was on her good behavior, and
most likely had the scoop net out, too
"The long and short of it is, says Twombley, shat
met her one night proposed the next day and found
Mortified suppose l lost my head. Anyway, l ran off
l haven't seen her since don't know how matters
stand
agents with perfectly good mystery. See? It's
nounced that she's goin to quit the stage and marry
Twombey TAFT, the young pluto A whole brigade of
reporters rush Miss Bythes hotel to ask her it's
She costumes herself in thousand-dolar Paqun
house robe. poses graceful on Looey Cans couch
EN- smin' and clipper. Then, while the Japanese
maids serve tea, she shakes her head and plays the
sphinx. Why not ask Twombley, Dear? says she.
And when they come swarmin' after you they run up
against grouchy butler who gives EN- the frozen face.
They can't get you to deny admit. Soft develops into
guessn contest, and that gets the people Folks that
Blythe offhand ayin awake nights now, debatin'
whether you will or not. Get the idea?'
I can do differently She must know that couldn't
possibly marry her. Of course, did ask her. l am
bound to admit that it bona ide offer which
accepted. She'll bring suit, | presume
there's some doubt, you know, whether that last
divorce of hers all reglar. Suit nothn; Free adj
vertsns what she's after, and she's gettn it by the
carload lot on the side YOU
And it is driving me frantic, says Twombey "Why,
just think am no Longer Pr nd Wio1 am
1 60 after this shall be pointed out the young
who wanted to marry the notorious Kitte Blythe.
Everybody knows it. They will never forget it,
never"
"Ah not quite so bad as that, Mr.. TAFT" says I.
"Things blow over, you know, and-we, here's the
studio. Now let's get this luggage fixed up; Why,
hello What's wrong with our hobo friend?"
AS turned noticed how pasty his face had gone,
and how unsteady he walkin', and l hadn't
moren got the words before he coapses the bags
right the foot of the stairs. Took about minute
to decide that it wan of hangover, fit His
steady.
"Whats the row?' asks Twombley impatient.
Exhaustion, that's ALL" says l. "Too little food
the stomach expect, and them bags of yours finished
him. Let's cart him upstairs. Lend hand on his feet
there, will your
"But-but l can't touch him, you know" protests
Twombley. "Ugh'
"Can't, eh?' says l. "After he
goes under luggin your traps? OIL
guess you Don't suppose
can leave him here, do you? Come
grab hold"
You'd thought it was dead horse w
he'd been asked to move, not live - &
human being, by the gingerly way he /Egg
did it. But l made him tuck the mr.,
muddy shoes and the ragged trouser
bottoms under his while took
the shoulders, and together we hoisted
the played out derelCt up into the =
front office and dumped him in a
chair. Then, while Twombey was
goin' back after the bags, got busy with towel
and fan and the brandy bottle, and in couple of
minutes he openin' his eyes weary.
"Sorry, old sport, that loaded you up so heavy"
says l. "but didn't notice how near in you was"
"It-t's all right" he pants out. "I-Im-"
"There, don't try any speech maxim just yet awhile,
saws |. "Here, Twombey YOU fan him a minute while