The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1912-09-24
opyr1ght, 1911. By II. < Fly c
CHAPTER XIV.
A Premature Divorce.

leap of joy. She was having another
idea. "I'll tell you, Harry. Wen pre-
tend to quarrel, and then"
And then you can leave me in high
dudgeon."
The ruse struck him as a tritie I'M
convincing Don't you think II looks
kind of improbable on-o..-sucn an
occasion?"
Marjorie blushed, and lowered her
eyes and her voice: Can you sug-
gest anything better?'
No, but"
Then, we'll have to quarrel, darI
ing"
He yielded. for lack Of a better
idea: "All right, beloved. How shall
we begin"'
On close approach, the idea did
seem rather impossible to her. How
could l ever quarrel with you. my
lover" she cooed.
He gazed at her with rush or
lovely tenderness: And how could
ever speak Grossly to your"
we never shall have harsh word,
shall WEI" she resolved
'Never!" he seconded. So tina
resolution passed the house unani
| mously.
They held hands in luxury a while
then she began again: Still, we mus
pretend. You start it, love"
No, you start it," he pleaded
You ought to-" she beamed. "You
got me into this mess"
The word slipped out MALLORY
started: Mess. How is it my fault
Good Lord, are you going to begir
chucking it up?"
We'll, you must admit, darling,
Marjorie urged. that you've bunglec
everything pretty badly"
1t was so undeniable that he coulC
only groan: And l suppose I'll heal
of this till my dying day, dearest"
| Marjorie had little temper all hel
own. So she defended it: IF you are
so afraid of my temper, love. perhap.
| you'd better call it all off before it:
too late"
| Il didn't say anything about your
temper, sweetheart" Mallory insisted
You did, too, honey. You said IL
chuck this up till your dying day. Al
If | had such disposition! You cal
stay here" She rose to her feet. ii,
pressed her back with a decisive mo
ton, and demanded: Where are yol
going?"
Up in the baggage car witt
Snoozleums," she SMILED. Hes the
only one that doesn't find fault witt
me-"
Mallory was stung to action by thi:
crisis: Wait" he said. He leaned
out and motioned down the alley
Porter! Wait a moment, darling
Porter!"
The porter arrived with a half-fold
ed blanket in his hands, and his usua
"Yassahi"
Reckoning him closer, Mallory mum
bled in low tone: rs there an ex
ira berth on this carr"
The porter's eyes seemed to re
buke his ears. Does you want thi!
upper made up?"
"No-of course not"
"Ex-excuse me, l thought"
Don't you dare to think" Mallor,
Numbered. Isn't there another low
er berth?"
The porter breathed hard, and CAV,
this bridal couple up as a riddle tina
followed no known rules. He went tt
find the sleeping car conductor, ant
returned with the information tina
the diagram showed nobody assigned
to number three.
Then I'll take number three" sait
Mallory, poking money at the porter
And still the porter could not under
stand
Now, lemme onderstan' you-all,
he stammered. Does you both NOV,
over to numba three. or does yo-yo
lady remain heah, while jest you pre-
ambulates?"
Just l preambulate, you blacI
hound!" Mallory answered, in {
threatening tone. The porter couIC
understand that, at least, and h,
bristled away with a meek: "Yessah
Numba three is yours, sab"
The troubled features of the BAT
fled porter cleared up as by magic
when he arrived at number three, fol
there he found his tyrant and tor
mentor, the English invader.
He remembered how indignant!
Mr.. Wedgewood had refused to show
his ticket, how cocksure he was O
his number, how he had leased The
porter's services as a sort of private
nurse, and had paid no advance roy
alties.
And now he was sprawIed and snor
ing majestically among his many lug
cages. like a sleeping lion. Revenge
tasted good to the humble porter; i
tasted like a candied yam smothereC
in 'possum gravy. He smacked hi!
thick lips over this revenge. witt
all the insoIence of a servant in brie
authority, he gloated over his prey
and prodded him awake. Then muir
INJURED with hypocritical Difference
Excuse me, but could see yo' tickle
for yo' seat?"
Certainly not! It's too muci
trouble" grumbled the half asleeper
"Confound you'll"
The porter lured him on: rs yol
sho' you got one?'
Wedgewood was wide awake now
and surly as any Englishman before
breakfast: 'Of cawse I'm shaw. How
dare your"
| ssToo had but I'm 'bIeePed to aSl