The Leon reporter. (Leon, Iowa) 1887-1930, 1914-02-26

AS he heard the elevator door close
and the swift swish of the ascending
car, Rankin withdrew to the apart
ment, there to linger, waiting for his
master, consumed with carefully mas
tered curiosity.
Devoured with curiosity he stood
waiting as his master entered through
the outer door which he considerably
had left ajar for him. He had guessed
at certain details of his young employ
er's probable condition and knew that
In the midst Of just those details
Broadway was impatient of latch-keys,
bell-ringing or even housekeeping on
the door.
The first thing he noted as the I'm.
steady Broadway entered was the fact
that his silk hat had been reversed up
on his head; the second was that
someone evidently had been sitting on
his raglan cape while it had been
rolled rather carelessly; the third was
that his face wore an expression Of re-
lief and peace with all the world.
Not so unsteadily that he failed en-
tirely to reach the goal Jackson tackled
across the room and found the win
dow. His friendly escort was still evil
IDENTIFY in his mind, for from the open
window he now waved genial hand
kerchief. whispering meanwhile
"Night-night," as If the hearty spirit
which induced the words would take
them to the sidewalk ten score feet be-
low.
Having performed this sacred rite
of friendship he regained the center of
the room, looked about him as If curl
ously, and then went unsteadily to the
grand piano, upon which he placed his
elbow with nesting search for COM
fort which seemed to indicate firm
decision to lean against the instrument
and go to sleep without delay. This
would never do, for when his slumber
became deep he would be sure to lose
his balance. Rankin saw the deep ne
cessity for rousing him from his inten-
ton.
"Mr. Jones, Mr. JONES'" he urged,
tapping him upon the shoulder.
Jackson looked up, sleepily, as II as
tonished at the interruption of his
slumbers. Hello" he said good ma
turedly, who's there?"
ITS Rankin. sir" said Rankin.
who's RanIin, sif?'" The tone was
that of tolerant curiosity to learn to-
til strangers unimportant identity.
I'm the butler. sir"
'.Butler?"
Eyes, Mr.. Jones; the butler"
This seemed to rouse his master and
ne looked him over with some show Of
interest. "A butler!" he exclaimed in
tones Of deep reproach. Aren't you
ashamed Of yourself? When you were
little boy your mother had great
hopes Of you-thought you were going
to be president Of the United States.
or something like that"
Rankin bowed imrassively; he did
not deny it.
"Now." said his employer with the
deepest Of reproach, you've disappoint-
ed everybody. You've turned out to be
nothing but butler. You ought to be
ashamed Of yourself"
Rankin was not offended; instead
his air was that Of triumph. "Ah. but
see who's butler am, sir!" he ex-
claimed.
who's butler are you?" inquired
Broadway, apparently with idlest curl
osity.
I'm your butler. sir"
"Oh, you're my butler?' This seemed
not to be especially. astonishing,
though deeply interesting to the mas
ter Of the house.
Eyes, sir"
Broadway looked 1T him with glad
smile, then with an earnest and enthu-
siastic gravity. He warmly shook his
hand Il congratulate you. Rankin.
I'm very fond Of my butler" His SEN
timent rose higher and he patted Ran
kin on the cheek. II love my little but
Ter. You must come out with me some
night. Rankin"
II should like to. sir" said Rankin
truthfully.
Broadway became gay, mysterious.
He looked at Rankin slyly and himself
essayed to whistle some bars Of the
wedding march. II know something
you don't know" he cried irrelevantly.
Rankin listened with respect and
close attention. His curiosity was al
most painful.
But his master did not satisfy It.
':Now I'll bid you goodnight, Rankin.
Nightie. nightie!" Genially he waved
his hand at him, laughed. whistled an
other bar or two and deliberately made
the starboard tack toward the door Of
his bedroom.
Rankin made no protest; he knew
better. when do you wish to be
called. sir ?"
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