Baraboo weekly news. [volume] (Baraboo, Wis.) 1912-197?, 1912-03-14

Copyright, 1910, by The Bobbs- Merrill Coz
CHAPTER XII.
RuqqIes Gives a Diner.

various
rooms, and as well through the CORR
doris and halls of the Carlton. At one
of the small tables bearing a great eX-
pensive bunch of orchids and soft
ferns, Josh Ruggles, in a new evening
dress, sat waiting for his party. Dan
had dined with Lord GaIorey, and the
two men had gone out together after
ward and Ruggles had not seen the
boy to give him Lefty Lanes note.
Got it with you?" Blair asked when
he came in, and Ruggles responded
that he didn't carry love letters
around in his dress clothes.
They could tell by the interest in
the room when the actress was COM
ing, and both men rose as Lefty Lane
foated in at flood tide with crowd
of last arrivals.
She was not dressed this evening
with the intention that her dark sim
plicity of attire should be conspicu-
Gus. The cloak which Dan took from
her shed the perfume of orris and re-
vealed the woman in blaze of spark
ling paillettes. She seemed made
out Of sparkle, and her blond head,
from which a bright ornament shook,
was the most brilliant thing about
her, though her dress from hem to
throat glistened with discs of gold like
mOOnshine on a starry sea. The &C
tress' look of surprise when she saw
Ruggles indicated that she had not
expected a boy of his age.
"The other boy?" she asked. well,
this is the incest supper party ever!
And you are awfully good to invite
me-
RTggles patted his shirt front and
adjusted his cravat.
MY idea," be told her, call the
blame on me, Miss Lane. Charge it
up to me! Dan here had cold feet
from the first. He said you wouldn't
come"
She laughed deliciously.
"He did? Hasn't much faith, has
he:"
Miss Lane drew her long gloves off,
toEched the orchids with her little
hands, on which the ever present
rings flashed, and went on talking to
Ruggles, to whom she seemed to want
to address her conversation.
I'm simply crazy over these flow
ers."
The older man showed his pleas
ure. MY choice again! Walked up
myself and chose the bunch, blame
me again; ditto dinner; mine from
start to fnigh--hoPe you'll like it. l
would have added some Montana peas
and some chocolate soda water, only
thought you might no: understand the
joke
Miss Lane beamed on him. AL
though he was unconscious Of it, she
was not fully at ease: he was not the
kind of man she had expected to see.
Accustomed to young fellows like the
boy and their mad devotion, accus-
toned to men with whom she could
be herself, the big, bluff, middle-aged
gentleman with his painfully correct
tie, his rumpled iron-gray hair, and his
Difference to her. though an unusual
diversion, was little embarrassing.
"Oh, | know your dinner is ripping,
Mr.. Ruggles. I'm on diet of milk
and eggs myself and l expect your
order didn't take in those" But at his
fallen countenance she hurried to say
"Oh. I wouldn't have told you that il
I hadn't been intending TO break
through"
And with childlike anticipation she
clapped her hands ard said: We're
going to have lots of ;un.' Just think,
they don't know what that means here
in London They say heaps of sport,
you know" She imt%ated the accent
maliciously Its jus, we Americans
who know what lots If fun' is, isn't
it?"
Near her Cen Blair's young eyes
were drinking in the spectacle of
delicate beauty beautifully gowned, of
soft skin, glorious hair, and he gazed
Iike a child al a pantomime. Under
his breath he exclaimed now, with eff
fusion, ''You bet your life we are go
ing to have lots of fun!" And turning
to him, Miss Lane said:
six chocolate sodas running?"
ooh, don't" he begged, mot that
kind of jag"
She shook with laughter.
Are you from Blairtown, Mr.. Rug
gzes? I don't think ] ever saw you
there"
And the Westerner returned: well,
from what Dan tells me, you're not
much of a fixture yourself, Miss Lane.
You were just about born and then
kidnapped"
Her gay expression faded. And she
repeated his word, kidnapped? That's
q good word for it, Mr.. Ruggles.'
She picked up between her fingers
strand of the green fern, and looked
at it's delicate tracery as It lay on the
palm of her hand.
81 sang one day after missionary