The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1912-06-08
Adventures of Average Jones
BY SAML HOP KINS ADAMS.
Copyright, 1911, by Bobbs, Merrill COL

ut was-everything! 1t was
wonderful" cried the girl, and
held out her slender hands to
him.
AS they clasped warmly upon
his, Average Jones reason lost
balance. He forgot that he was
in that house on an equivocal
footing; he forgot that he had
exposed and disgraced Sylvia
Graham's near relative; he forgot
that this was but his third meet
ing with Sylvia Graham herself;
he forgot everything except that
the sum total of all that was
sweetest and finest and most de-
sirable in womanhood stood warm
and vivid before him; and, bend
ing over the little, clinging hands
ne pressed his lips to them. Only
for moment. The hands slip
ped from his. There was a quick,
frightened gasp, and the girls
face, all aflush with a new, sweet
fearfulness and wondering con-
fusion, vanished behind a ponder
GUS swinging door.
The young man 8 knees shook a
little as he walked forward and
put his lips close to the Intel.
Sylvia"
There was a faint rustic from
within.
I'm sorry. l mean, I'm glad.
Gladder than of anything I've
ever done in my life
Silence from within.
IF I've frightened you, forgive
me. / couldn't help 1t. 1t was
stronger than I. This isn't the
place where can tell you. Sylvia,
I'm going now"
No answer.
1.-THE work is DONE" he con-
tinued. you won't need me any
more. ibid he hear, from with
in, a faint indrawn breath?) Not
for any help that I can give. But
IL shall need you always, and
long for you. Listen, there
mustn't be any misunderstanding
about this, dear. If you send for
me, 1t must be because you want
me; knowing that, when l come,
| shall come for you. Goodbye,
dear"
Goodbye" 1t was the mer-
est whisper from behind the door.
But 1t echoed in the tones of a
thousand golden hopes and dis
NAL fears in the whirling brain
of Average Jones as he walked !,
unseeingly, back to his offices.
Two days later he sat at his
desk, in murk of woe. For no
word nor sign had come to him
from Miss Sylvia Graham. He
frowned heavily as Simpson en-
tered the inner sanctum with the
usual packet of clippings.
Leave them," he ordered.
Eyes, SIR The confidential
clerk fingered, looking uncom-
Portable. Anything from yes
terday's lot, sir?"
Haven't looked them over
yet"
"Or the day before's?"
Haven't taken those out
ether
Pardon me. Mr.. Jones, but
are you Ill, sir?"
.'No," snapped Average Jones.
"Ramson is inquiring whether
he shall ship more beetles. / see
In the paper that Judge Ackroyd
has sailed for Europe on six
hours notice, so I suppose you
won't. want any more?"
Average Jones mentioned a
destination for Ramson's beetles
deeper than they had ever digged
for prey.
Yes, sir" assented Simpson.
but IL / might suggest. there's
a very Interesting advertisement
in yesterdays paper repeated this
morn
Il don't want to see It,
''No, sir. But--but still---it-
1t seems to have a strange refer
ence to the burial of the Million
dollar dog, and an Invitation that
1 Thought"
Where is lit Give 1t to mel,
For once in his life. high pres
sure of excitement had blotted
out Average Jones drawl. His
employee thrust into his hand
this announcement from the Ban
ner OF that morning.:
DIED-At 100 west 18th street,
sept =. Peter Paul dog. Tor