The Miller press. [volume] (Miller, S.D.) 190?-current, 1914-06-04


Tom answered with poorly assumed
~caTelessness: over at Rocky Cove"
Then unconsciously he began caress-
ing the other wrist, which also was
discolored and swollen. Van Vechten
observed.
Rocky Cove-h'm. What's hap
pened to your wrists?"
Tom flushed and tried TO hide the
telltale wrists, but finding this impos-
sible he came suddenly back to earth.
Rudy" he abruptly announced, Il
mean to find a job"
"A laudable ambition" commented
his friend, still cycling him c~uriously.
Il never had a job myself, nor any
desire for one; which, as has been
pointed out to me more than once, is
nothing whatever to my credit. What
do you purpose doing, may | inquirer"
I'm serious" returned Tom, scowl-
ing. 81 mean just what ! say. | in
tend to go to work. Think of all the
years I've ~squandered in idleness-'
Heaven forbid" broke in his
friend. Il can imagine only one thing
that could set you to rejecting upon
the ~desolate, dreary waste of your mis-
spent life. And, mirabile dictu ct visu,
it has come at last! Who is this para
gon of her sex that has quickened
vou?"
Tom colored again. ~"Shucks!" he
growled sulkily. "A fellow might as
well try talking seriously to an idiot"
Believe me-" said Van Vechten
earnestly, Il never was in a more
sober mood in my life. Mayn't | be
permitted some ven for my ~stupefac-
ton? You appear here, utterly unlike
the chap l know, and sit for minutes.
about as %garrulous as a corpse, then
overwhelm me with the amazing reve-
lation that you are-at last-in love!
Tom, my dear fellow, l feel as if |
were participating in a miracle. Tell
me frankly all about her"
She has the tenderest, most mu-
steal voice in the world" said Tom
fervently.
That's the genuine poetic touch"
said his friend. And her hair?-her
eyes? Is she tall or short-Psyche, or
Diana? Hebe, or Hippolyta?"
Il don't know" stammered Tom.
What"
Tom twisted and squirmed ~uneasily
in his chair.
Dash it ALL" blurted he at last. 81
was an ass for coming here; | might
have known that you'd screw every
thing out OF me. When l say l don't
know what she looks like, | mean just
that, but it makes me out a blooming
l~unatic. But l haven't seen her.
haven't the least idea what she looks
like. Yet | want to find her worse
than ever l wanted anything in my
life"
The others aspect grew grave enough
now. 1t was plainly manifest that,
since they had parted Sunday, Tom
had undergone an experience of some
kind, that had affected him profound.
ly.
Suppose" said his friend sympa,
thetically, you tell me all about her."
And Tom did. He began with hie
day upon the waters of the sound, con
Guiding this stage of his adventure
with an account of the m%otorboat and
it's occupants.
At mention Of the white-haired ser
want, Van Vechten started violently
but managed to restrain the ejacula
ton that leaped to the tip OF his
tongue. His interest was now doubled
and he settled himself to harken t.
the narrative. which he followed
thenceforward to the end with a con
ception that inspired Tom to genuine
eioquence.
At the close OF the recital Van Vech
ten remained a long time absorbed IL
thought.
ITO think" he said finally, "tha
you-of all persons-should have blum
dered into an adventure like that
But, Tommy, 1t is unfortunate that 20,
pledged yourself not to hunt for tn,
house. l suppose 1t occurred to yo,
that these people are the same WIZ
occupied thirteen-thirteen?"
Tom nodded.
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