Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1913-06-17
CHAPTER XXI.

time. Mildred nad SAID
o'clock, but as early as I o'clock he
had arrayed himself in a suit of light
summer fiannels Git was now early in
the month of June), and after trying
to kill time around the house he had
in his Impotence, jumped into his
automobile and rode 70 the meeting
place.
The minutes that followed seemed
ages To him. There was a sharp bend
in the road. just before it reached the
bridge, in the direction Mildred must
come, and he had TO trust to his ear
rather than his eye to detect the APP
proach of a vehicle. At last he heard
a sound that he knew was made by
the little runabout. When the car
came In sight he was standing on the
bridge Mildred saw him, and rails
hand from the wheel she waved a
gay salute. Gordon lifted his cap in
answering greeting but he had faced
the crowd and the tumult and the
opposing pitcher in the crisis of that
last game in Atlanta with less trepi-
dation than he faced the oncoming
automobile.
Mildred stopped the runabout close
to GOrdOn's car, switched of the mag
neto, put the lever in neutral and ap-
piled the emergency brake with bus
mess like precision. Then, turning
her head toward the young man, she
favored him with a beaming smile
and said:
Here l am on time, Mr., Gordon
Kelly"
MIR. Kelly Againl"
At these words a look of detection
came into GOTdOn's face
MIR. Kelly again! / suppose as long
as you call me Mr., Kelly l will have
to call you Miss Deery, and l am dy-
ing to call YOU"
MIR. Bud, then. if you like that
name better" said Mildred, with
little toss of her head.
Gordon smiled and held out his
hand She placed her fingers in it
and Jumped lightly to the ground.
THAT certainly has a more familiar
sound but / would much prefer to
have you call me Gordon" he said.
Mildred faced him squarely.
But / want to know about this
Mr. Bud and this Mr. Gordon Kelly
business. Why Is there such a mys-
terry over it?"
There's no mystery that cannot be
very easily solved" replied Gordon.
Let us walk over to that big oak
where il is cool and shady, and l Will
tell you all about it."
They walked slowly and silently
side by side until they stood beneath
the spreading branches Of the huge
tree. At their feet flowed the purling
brook. Gordon indicated a place
where they might rest, but Mildred
shook her head.
Before we get too comfortable l
want to know about Mr. Bud, or Mr..
Kelly or whatever his name is" she
said.
Just a Nickname.
THAT is the simplest thing in the
world" he replied. Bud is a nick
name my father gave me. My mother
also grew into the habit of calling
me Bud. The people around the place
never heard me called by any other
name and naturally they addressed
me as Mr. Bud"
Mildred let her eyes fall to the
ground and began toying with the
leaves with the toe of her shoe.
Il can readily understand that"
she said but what | cannot under
stand is that no one in your home
knows who Gordon Kelly is. When
Elmer called your house on the tel
ephone the other day your colored
boy, Steve, said there was no Mr.
Gordon Kelly there, no Mr.. Kelly and
no Mr.. Gordon there And when
called you this morning the person
who answered the telephone said the
same thing"
That, too" is easily explained"
declared Gordon. His face became
very serious. Il meant to have told
you. 1t has been on my mind ever
since we met under the bridge over
there. III will tell you now"
But he hesitated Mildred brought
her eyes to bear on his. He was
looking off in the distance.
well" she said, quietly.
Gordon stopped and picked a twig
from the ground. He broke it in
small pieces and tossed them one by
one into the ripping brook. Still he
did not answer. Mildred, who had
not taken her eyes off his face, saw
the blood suddenly paint 1t crimson
and she felt herself trembling slightly
Gordon turned his face toward hers
and their eyes met.