Catoctin clarion., 1912-04-25
CHAPTER XVII.
Last Call for Breakfast.

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awoke. Into his last moments OF heavy
sleep intruded a voice like town.
crier's voice, crying:
Lass call for breakfuss In the Rim
ing Rar," and then. again louder,
Lass call for breakfuss In Rinin.
rar," and. finally and family. "Lass-
call breakfuss rirar.'
Mallory pushed up his window
shade. The day was broad on rolling
prairies like billows established In the
green soil. He peeked through his
curtains. Most Of the other passen.
gers were up and about, their beds
hidden and beddings slowed away be.
hind the bellying veneer OF the upper
works of the car. All the berths were
made up except his own and number
two, in the corner, where Little Jim
mie IVellington's nose still played a
bagpipe monody, and one other berth,
which he recognized as Marjorie's.
His belated sleep and hers had
spared them both the stares and
laughing chatter Of the passengers.
But this bridal couples two berths,
standing like towers among the seats,
had provided conversation for every.
body, had already united the casual
group OF strangers into an organized
gossip-bee.
Mallory got into his shoes and as
much of his clothes as was necessary
for the dash to the washroom, and
took on his arm the rest Of his ward
robe. Just as he issued from his
lonely chamber, Marjorie appeared
from hers, much disheveled and
heavy-eyed. The bride and groom ex-
changed glances of mutual terror, and
hurried in opposite directions.
The spickest and spannest OF lieu
tenants soon realized that he was re-
duced to wearing yesterdays linen as
we'll as yesterdays beard. This was
intolerable. A brave man can endure
heartbreaks, loss Of love, honor and
place, but neat man cannot abide
the traces of time In his toilet. Lieu
tenant Mallory had seen rough serv-
ice in camp and on long hikes, when
he gloried In mud and disorder, and
he was to see campaigns In the Phil
ippines, when he should not take on
his shoes or his uniform for three
days at time. But that was the
field, and this car was a drawing
room.
In this crisis In his affairs, Little
Jimmie Wellington waddled into the
mems room, fioundering about with
every lurch of the train, like cannon
loose In the hold Of a ship. He fum-
bled with the handles on basin, and
made a crazy toilet, trying to find
some abatement of his fever by filling
a glass at the icewater tank and
emptying 1t over his head.
These drastic measures restored
him to some sort Of coherency, and
Mallory appealed to him for help In
the matter OF linen. Wellington ef-
fusively offered him everything he
had, and Mallory selected from his
store half a dozen collars, any one OF
which would have gone round his
neck nearly twice.
Wellington also proffered his safety
razor, and made him present OF
virgin wafer of steel for his very own.
With this assistance, Mallory was
enabled to make himself fairly pre-
sentable. When he returned to his
seat, the three curtained rooms had
been whisked away by the porter.
There was no place now to hide from
the passengers.
He sat down facing the feminine
end OF the car, watching for Marjorie.
The passengers were watching for
her, too, hoping to learn what un-
heard-of incident could have pro-
voked the quarrel that separated a
bride and groom at this time, OF all
times.
To the general bewilderment, when
Marjorie appeared, Mallory and she
rushed together and clasped hands
with an ardor that suggested a desire
for even more ardent greeting. The
passengers almost sprained their ears
to how they would make up such
a dreadful feud. But all they heard
was: Well have to hurry, Marjorie.
II we want to get any breakfast
"All right. honey. Come along"
Then the inscrutable couple sour
ried up the aisle, and disappeared in
the corridor. leaving behind them a
mighty riddle. They kissed in the
corridor Of that car, kissed In the ves-
thule. kissed In the two corridors Of