The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1912-03-15
CHAPTER !.
The Wreck Of the Taxieab.

The Wreck Of the Taxicab.
The young woman in the taxicah
scuttling frantically down the dark
street, chung to the arm of the young
man alongside, as II she were terri
Sied 1t the lawbreaking, neck-risking
speed. But evidently some greater
fear goaded her, for she gasped:
"Can't he go a little faster?"
Cant you goa little faster" The
young man alongside howled as he
thrust his head and shoulders through
the window In the door.
But the self-created taxi-gale swept
his voice aft, and the taut chauffeur
perked his ear in vain to catch the
vanishing syllables.
whats that?" he roared.
Cant you go a little faster"
The indignant charioteer simply
had to shoot one barbed glare OF re-
proach into that passenger. He turned
his head and growled:
Say, do youse want to lose me me
license?"
For Just one instant he turned his
head One instant was just enough,
The unguarded taxicab seized the op'
portunity. bolted from the track, and
flung, as it were, it's arms drunkenly
around a perfectly respectable lamp,
post attending strictly to its business
on the curb. There ensued con-
densed Fourth of July. Sparks flew,
tires exploded, metals ripped, two
wheels spun in air and one wheel,
neatly severed at the axle, went reel
ing down the sidewalk half a block
before it leaned against a tree and
rested.
A dozen or more miracles conceded
to save the passengers from injury.
The young man found himself stand
ing on the pavement with the un-
hinged door still around his neck. The
young womans arms were round his
neck. Her head was on his shoulder.
1t had reposed there often enough,
but never before in the street under a
Iamppost. The chauffeur found HIM
self in the road, walking about on all
tours, like bewildered quadruped.
Evidently some overpowering need
for speed possessed the young wom-
an, for even now she did not scream,
she did not faint, she did not MUIR
muir, Where am II" She simply said:
What time is 1t, honey"
And the young man, not realizing
how befuddled he really was, or how
his hand trembled, fetched out his
watch and held it under the glow OF
the lamppost, which was now bent
over in a convenient but disreputable
attitude.
"A quarter to ten, sweetheart.
Plenty of time for the train"
But the minister, honey! What
about the Minister
! The consid Grafton of this riddle was
interrupted by a muffied hubbub OF
yelps, whimpers and canine Mysteries.
Immediately the young woman forgot
ministers, collisions, train-schedules-
everything. She showed her first sign
of panic.
''Snoozleums! Get Snoozleums!"
They CROPPED about in the topsy-
turvy taxicab, rummaged among a
tumble of suitcases, handbags, UNI
brellas and minor impedimenta, and
fished out a small dog-basket with an
inverted dog inside. Snoozleums was
ridiculous in any position, but as he
slid tail foremost from the wicker
basket, he resembled nothing so much
as a heap of tangled yarn tumbling
out of a work-basket. He was an in
dignant skein, and had much to say
before he consented to snuggle under
his mistress chin.
About this time the chauffeur came
prowling into view. He was too deep
ly shocked to emit any language of
the garage. He was too deeply
shocked to achieve any comment more
brilliant than:
THAT mess don't look much like 1t
ever was taxicab, does it?"
The young man shrugged his shout
ders, and stared up and down the
long street for another. The young
woman looked sorrowfully at the
wreck, and queried:
do you think you can make 1t go?"
The chauffeur glanced her way,
more in pity for her whole sex than in
soorn for this one type, as he mum
bled:
Make 1t go? It'll take steam
winch a week to unwrap 1t from that
lamppost."
The young man apologized.
IL oughtn't to have yelled at you
lie was evidently very nice young
man. Not to be outdone y courtesy.
the chauffeur retorted:
Il hadn't ought to have turned me
head"
The young woman thought, What
"a nice chauffeur" but she gasped:
"Great heavens, you're hurt!"
Its muffin but a scratch on me
t'umb."
Lend me a clean handkerchief,
Harry"
The young man whipped out his re-
serve supply, and in trice it was a
ibandage on the chauffeur's hand. The
lchauffeur decided that the young won.
en Vas even nicer than the younG