The Owosso times. (Owosso, Mich.) 1897-1926, 1912-04-26

into their midst like the offspring OF
an iceberg.
1t was at this moment that Mrs.
Wellington, hearing the loud cries OF
the panic-stricken Marjorie, rushed
from the Women's Room, absent-mind-
eddy combing totally detached sec
ton OF her hair. She recognized IA
miliar pyjamas waving in air, and
with one faint gasp: Jimmie! on this
train!" she swooned away. She would
have fallen, but seeing that no one
paid any attention to her, she recov-
cred consciousness on her own hook,
and vanished into her berth. to medi-
tate on the why's and wherefores OF
her husbands presence In this car.
Dr.. Temple In nightgown and
trousers; Roger Ashton, IN a collar
Less estate. and the porter, managed
to, extricate Mr.. Wellington from his
plight, and stow him away. though II
was like putting whale to bed.
Mallory seeing that Marjorie had
Ned. vented MA Wild rage against fate
~ generais aHAs rice traps In particu.
lar. by tearing the bridal bungalow to
Pieces. and then he stalked into. the
s~pkirg room. where Ira Lathrop.
homeless and dispossessed, was sound
asleep. with his feet In the chair.
He was dreaming that no was 1
hoy tpl Brattieboro. the. worst boy in
Bratuebero. trying to get up the cour-
age 70 spark pretty Ammo Cattle, and
throwing rocks at the best boy In
town, Charlie Selby, who was always
at her side. The porter woke Ira, an
hour later. and escorted him to the
late bridal section. 0
Marjorie had fed with her dog, as
soon as she could grope her way
through the deluge of rice. She hop
ped into her berth, and spent an hour
trying to clear her hair OF the null
titudinous grains. And as for Snoozle-
ums, his thick wool was SO be-riced
that for two days, whenever he shook
himself, he snew.
Eventually, the car quieted, and
nothing was heard but the rumble and
click OF the wheels on the rails, the
creak or timbers, and the frog-like
chorus of few well-trained snorers
AS the porter was turning down the
last OF the lights, rumpled pate was
thrust from the stateroom, and the
luscious-eyed man whispered:
Porter, what time did you say we
crossed the Iowa state line?"
1.-Two fifty-five a. m"
From within the stateroom came
deep sigh, then with a dismal groan:
Call me at two fifty-five a. m.," the
door was closed.
Poor Mallory, pyjamaless and night
shirtless, lay propped up on his pill
lows, staring out of the window at the
swiftly shifting night scene. The state
Of Illinois was being pulled out from
under the train like dark rug.
Farmhouses cleaned or dreamed
lampless. The moonlight rippled on
endless seas of wheat and Indian
corn. Little towns slid up and away.
Large towns rolled forward, and were
left behind. Ponds, marshes, brooks,
pastures, thickets and great gloomy
groves flowed past as on a river. But
the same stars and the moon seemed
to accompany the train. If the flying
witness had been less heavy of heart,
he would have found the Keeling scene
full of grace and night beauty. But
he could not see any charm in all the
world, except his tantalizing other
self, from whom great chasm
seemed to divide him, though she was
only two windows away.
He had not yet fallen asleep, and
he was still bordering how to attain
his unmarried, unmarriable bride,
when the train rolled out in air above
a great wide river, very noble under
the stars. He knew it for the Mis-
sissippi. He heard faint knocking
on door at the other end of the car.
He heard sounds as of kisses, and
then somebody tiptoed along the aisle
stealthily. He did not know that an
other bridegroom was being separated
from his bride because they were too
much married.
Somewhere In Iowa he fell asleep.