Putnam patriot., 1912-05-24
BROOKE'S PRETTY
 SISTER
By IZOLA FORESTER
opyright. 1912. by Associated Literary
 Press ]

glad Yell to rouse the adjacent Nll- lsge. they took counsel together as to where Brooke lived, how to reach where Brooke lived, and what to do when they had found Brooke.
 He said he'd meet us with a trap, or something at the station Erik ton said. Said his place was down along the Chesapeake shore.
 Tidy little green bungalow, set in a nest of trees, sang Tip the kid of the lot Place where no female of the species ever intrudes her archly lifted nosetip. Place where We may wear our bathing togs all day long, and no man may say us nay. Place | where food is cheap and plentiful, and We may hunt the merry piseatoriai game by day or night as the mood seizes us. Rah for Brooke
 Good old Brooke. Fine old boy! chanted the rest in chorus. when sud. denly by common consent, they ceased and stared at the far side of the sta. tion platform. There was a trap, black and yellow affair, very smart. very practical, a mode of conveyance that bore the hallmark of Brooke all over it. Even the horse bore it, a deep chested bay. with reaching nose. and impatient feet. neither bobbed nor checked up, just "all horse" as Tip said.
 The crowd discussed not the situa- ton. Here was Brooke's equipage. Somewhere on the horizon line was Brooke. They made a rush for the trap, and piled it up with suit cases. A lone piekaninny watched them with attentive curiosity. from the edge of the platform.
 "Er-say, boy, do you know where MT Brooke is?" called Brixton.
 He didn't come on dis train, sah."
 "Oh, he didn't? Then this was sent to meet him. Who drove it?"
 "Ah did. sah.''
 You shy eyed chocolate drop. watching us elope with your boss en- tire turnout. Come and drive us to the place where this trap belongs"
 The boy obeyed, and the trap swung around down the side road. over a little bridge. and into the shore country. Finally, when the wheels began to sink in sand they drew up before a broad low cottage, mostly piazza.
 Iris a winsome spot, and home like" said Tip. Tune up, lads"
 Whereupon the long drawn out and sonorous yell of their home college broke on the still, hay afternoon.
 We will bide wee until Brooke 1 arrives. Maybe we'll get supper for him. I'm starved now. Let's rustic for supplies"
 The boys going back with the trap" announced another. Hi. there, where you going"
 Have to meet de next train came back a wavering reply. They stood alone on the curying shore. No signs of life appeared about the cottage Setting their suit cases on the veranda the boys followed on to the kitchen by a united and harmonious impulse.
 "The icebox is damned with truf- fes and trifles. Also one cold roast ham. and some remains of fried chicken also"
 Brixton stopped, as center rush swept over him towards the ice box. The feast was spread on the top Of the ice box for convenience in han ding. "A buffet luncheon" said Tip, blithely Isn't Brooke the fine old boy? Rah for Brooke once more"
 Richly the shout swelled out on the air. As it died away. Brixton held up one finger.
 "Anyb hear sound above? Nobody had There didn't seem to be any above-garret. attic, or other wise. After the feast, the boys played college melodies on Brookes guitar and mandolin and lounged around on the couches. Then Tip proposed a swim. Suits were hauled out of the l luggage, and arrayed like a line up of animated barber poles they went down to the shore, leaving their clothes at the cottage.
 And while they splashed in the beautiful waters of old Chesapeake, suddenly Brixton said cautiously:
 Look at the dormer window"
 There were two dormer windows to the cottage. They had not noticed them before. White muslin curtains fiuttered from them, and just beyond was a face. girls face, looking down at the swimmers with mirth and anx- iety. too Brixton at once stopped his side stroke, and started in shore. but the face vanished. Counsel was held. Tip recalled that Brooke had said he had a pretty sister In fact as Tips memory warmed up to the tax put upon it. he remembered that Brooke had said he had the finest sister in the world, and the best locker, too.
 Blonde or brunette?" queried Earns less. sarcasically.
 Medium" Tip swung back prompt ly.
 She's probably unprepared for our coming" Brixton said. Maybe talk ing siestE, and wakened to find a bunch of blooming dolphins cavorting in her front aquamarine garden, so to speak I'm going to apologize"
 Your clothes are on the ice box" Tip put in cruelty. You're a picture in that green and pink outfit. Try wireless"
 l TT tWerS uOhe when IL were oOhe then t'sere well it were done quick ly." ctirped Randy Phelps. the col lege bard. Co on, Bixy Don't minc Tip. You're a poem in that color combination. Go tell her we're awful ly sorry we ate up all the salad, ham and chicken, while we sit out here and watch for Brooke to take ms young life on sight for not telling us