The Winslow mail., 1911-03-11

playing roulette in the next room
now. One is small and dark, almost
Hebraic in type, named Leila and
called Lollie. The other, larger, very
blonde and languishing, and with a
decided preference for masculine so
c1ety, even saving the mark, mine!
Dallas Browns wife, good looking,
smokes cigarettes when l am not
around-they all do, except Mrs Will
son. Then there is a maiden aunt,
who is i'll today with grippe and ex-
element, and Miss Knowles, who
came for moment last night to see
Mrs. Wilson, was caught in the quar-
antine (see papers), and, after hiding
all night in the basement, is sulking
all day in her room. Her presence
created an excitement out of all pro-
portion to the apparent cause.
From the fact that have reason to
know that my artist host and his beau
tiful wife are on bad terms. and from
the significant glances with which the
announcement of Miss Knowles pres
ence was met, the state of affairs
seems rather clear. Wilson impresses
me as a spineless sort, anyhow, and
when the lady of the basement shut
herself away from the rest today and
| happened on Jimmy" as they call
him, pleading with her through the
door, I very nearly kicked him down
the stairs. Oh, yes, I'll keep out,
right enough; 1t isn't my affair.
By the way, after quarantine and
with the policeman locked in the fur
mace room, a pearl necklace and dia-
mond bracelet were stolen! Just ten
of us to divide the suspicion Upon
my word, Hal, it's the queerest situa-
tiOn l ever heard Of Which of us did
it? / make guess that not a few of
us are fools, but which is the knave?
The worst of it is, 1 am the only un-
accredited member Of the household
This Is more scandal than | ever
wrote in my life. Lay it to circum-
scribed environment, and the lack
of 20 miles over the pampa before
breakfast. We have all been vac
cinated, and the officious gentlemen
from the board of health have taken
their grins and their .formaldehyde
and gone. Ye gods, how we cough!
The Carlton order viii go through
all right, think. 'Phoned him this
morning. If it does, old man, we will
take a month in September and ex-
plore the Mercator property.
Do you know, Hal, have been
thinking lately that you and l stick
too close to the grind. Business is
right enough, but what's the use Of
spending ones best years succeeding
in everything except the things that
than l care to say, and-oh, well, you
won't understand. You'll sit down
there, with the Southern Cross and
the rest of the internal astronomical
galaxy looking down on you, and the
Indians chanting in the village, and
you will think l have grown senti-
mental l have not. You and down
there have been looking at the world
through the reverse end of the glass.
It's bully old world, Hal, and this
is Gods part of it.
Burn this letter after you read it:
I suspect it is covered with germs.
Well, happy days, old man.
Yours, TOM.
P. S.-By the way, can't you spare
some of the Indian pottery you picked
up at Callao? I told Mrs. Wilson
about 1t, and she was immensely In
terested. Send it to this address.
Can you get 1t to the next steamer?
IT.
From Maxwell Reed to Richard Bur
ton Bagley, University club, New
York
Dear Dick:
Inclosed find my check for five hum
dred as per wager. Possibly you were
within your right in protecting your
bet in the manner you chose, but
while l do not wish to be offensive,
your reporters are damnably so.
Yours,
MAXWELL REED.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)