Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1914-04-11
Earl Derr Bi9gers

tight waiting for it to blow over. l.
took a fancy to her, as you NIGH
put it. She wanted the money. l go
it for her"
"A pretty fairy story, my boy" the
mayor commented.
Absolutely true" smiled Magee.
What do you think of that for ar
explanation, Lou" inquired Cargan
"she asked him for the money and he
gave it to herr"
Mr.. Max leered.
Say, Broadway chorus would be
pleased to meet you, Magee,' he com
mented.
Don't tell any of your chorus
friends about me- replied Magee. 81
might not always prove so complacent
Every man has his moments of falling
for romance. Even you probably fell
once-and what a fall was there
| "Can the romance stuff" pleaded
Max. "This chilly railway station
WASN'T meant for such giddy language
Wasn't it? MIR. Magee looked around
at the dingy walls, at the soiled time
cards, at the disreputable stove. No
place for romance?> 1t was here he had
seen her first, in the dusk, weeping
bitterly over the seemingly hopeless
task in which he was destined to serve
her. No place for romance-and here
had begun his life's romance. The
blue blithe sailor still stood at atten-
ton in the "See the World" poster.
Magee winked at him. He knew about
it all, he knew, he knew-he knew
how alluring she had looked in the
blue corduroy suit, the bit of cambria
pressed agonizingly to her face. Verify,
even the sailor of the posters saw the
world and all its glories.
The agent leaned his face against
the bars
"Your train" he called, sis crossing
the Main Street trestle."
They filed out upon the platform,
Mr. Magee carrying Mrs. Norton's lug
gage amid her effusive thanks. On
the platform waited stranger equip
ped for travel. 1t was Mr.. Max who
made the great discovery.
'By the Lord Harry" he cried "it's
the Hermit of Baldpate Mountain"
And so it was, his beard gone, his
hair clumsily hacked, his body CARRIED
in the height of an old and ludicrous
fashion, his face set bravely toward
the cities once more
YES he said, II walked the floor,
thinking it all over knew it would
happen, and it has. The winters are
hard, and the sight of you-it was too
much. The excitement, the talk-it
did for me, did for my oath. So I'm
going back to her-back to Brooklyn
for Christmas"
nnorrv 0no tn oraU1od
Cargan.
Maybe" replied Mr. Peters. every
likely, if she's feeling that way. I
hope so. I amt giving up the her
NIT job altogether-I'll come back in
the summers, to my post card business.
There's money in it, if it's handled
right. But I've spent my last winter
on that lonesome hill"
LAS author to author" asked Ma
gee, chow about your book?"
There won't be any mention Of
that" the hermit predicted, Gin
Brooklyn. I've packed it away. May
be l can work on it summers, If she
doesn't come up here with me and
insist on running my hermit business
for me. I hope she won't, it would
sort Of put crimp in it-but If she
wants to I won't refuse. And maybe
that book'll never get done. Some
times as I've sat in my shack at night
and read, it's come to me that all the
greatest works since the world began
have been those that never got fin.
ished."
The Reuton train roared up to them
through the gray morning, and paused
impatiently at Upper Asquewan Falls
Aboard it clambered the hermits,
amateur and professional. Mr.. Ma
gee, from the platform, waved good
by to the agent standing forlorn in the
station door. He watched the build
ing until it was only a blur in the
dawn. A kindly feeling for it was in
his heart After all, it had been in
the waiting-room-
CHAPTER Xxx
The AdmraI's Game.
The village of Upper Asquewan
Falls gave correct imitation of snow
upon the deserts dusty face, and was
no more. Bidding reluctant goOd-by
to upstate romance, Mr. Magee en-
tered the solitary day coach which,
with a smoker, made up the local to
Reuton. He spent few moments ad
justing Mrs. Norton to her new en-
vironment, and listened to her volu-
BILE expressions of joy in the fact that
her clearinghouse doomed ahead
Then he started for the smoker On
his way he paused at the seat occu-
pied by the ex-hermit of Baldpate, and
fixed his eyes on the pale blue neck
tie Mr.. Peters had resurrected for his
return to the world of men.
Pretty. amt it?' remarked the her
NIT, seeing whittier Mr.. Magee's gaze
drfted "She picked it. I didn't ex-
actly like it when she first gave it to
me, but l see my mistake now. I'm
wearing it home as sort of white
flag of truce. Or almost white. Do
you know. Mr.. Magee, I'm somewhat
nervous about what I'll say when
come into her presence again-about
my inaugural address, you might put
it. What would be your conversation
on such an occasion? If you'd been
away from a wife for five years. what
would you say when you drifted back?"
THAT would depend" replied Ma
gee, ION the amount Of time she al