The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1914-05-11
CHAPTER I.
The Woman Across the Street

80 - otCig VI WV OtOl iCSt
separate yet inseparable, of
wheels agog and of wheels awhir,
the frolic and the business of
life.
1t all began that day when
Forbes wondered who she was.
He was always wondering who
she was, the blonde, the brunette,
the Venetian-red, the October
brown, on the street, at the play.
in the restaurant. II was a habit.
And why not? 1t was bis
bread-and-butter to send the
argosies of his imaginative glance
securing the seas for treasure; ;
and whenever he saw pretty
woman. bows-on he followed in
her wake.
He was an illustrator; he drew
exquisite colored covers for the
magazines and full-page drawings
for the celebrated love stories of
Mr.. Popular Piffle.
Indeed, he shared honors with
Piffle. and made quite as much
money.
His pencil rolled from his
board, unobserved; and the red
brown dachel under his chair
pounced upon 1t joyously, gurg-
ling over the delicious pungency
of the cedar.
AS a gourmet adores his plate
of goose-livers and truffles, his
cobwebbed bottles OF Burgundy,
80 this merry-eyed, long-bodied,
short-legged Bavarian puppy
adored his masters pencils, the
big, fat, unwashed ones. He
made short work of them.
When Forbes dropped a pencil
these days, he reached for a fresh
one, having recognized the fulfil
ity of crawling on his hands and
knees over rugs in search of
something which had ceased to
exist.
Every day now for week
between three and four in the
afternoon, she had gone by, slim,
trig, supple. She looked like
Somebody; she must be Some
body, for nobody but Somebody
could have carried her head the
way she did.
Where her journey began,
where 1t ended, Forbes had never
bothered himself to inquire. 1t
satisfied his needs to expert her
at such time each day and to
realize his expectations. Her hair
huruad lilo N commandment In tho
sunshine. and her face was as
white as milk.
BY George! He stood up, push
ed aside his board, and accident
ally trod on Herr Fritz tail.
Music. Presently 1t died away,
pianissimo, under the divan. Or
dinarily Forbes would have con-
soled his comrade; but his mind
was busy with the girl across the
street.
II he went out now he could
follow her. All he wished to
know was where she lived. His
ingenuity would find means of
meeting her, inoffensively. He
knew women tolerably well. From
the pretty little milliner's assist
ant, all the way up to the stately
czarina of all the Russias, their
vanity cried out for perpetuation
on canvas.
Ting-aling! Confound the tel
ephone at such a moment!
Hello, hello! Yes, this
is Forbes talking. Oh,
that you, Jillson? What?
Eight till twelve? Deuces
what? oh, deuces wild. Sure, :
understand, o quiet little game Of
poker, with the poor artist pay
ing for the cigars and liquors.
Deuces wild; l know; you can
make the two-spot anything you
please. What?
Opening your apartment tonight?
In the Dryden? Where's
that? Why, that's only a
block or so away. = Oh,
I'll be there. Rather play poker
than eat. By-by!"
Forbes made a dash for his hat,
rushed out of the studio and
down two flights, madly and
recklessly. Too late! She was
gone. He dashed Jillson and his
poker party breathlessly but flu
emily. Surprising she never
walked past again? 1t would be
just his luck.
AS a matter of fact, the I'M
known meant nothing to Forbes
aside from the commercial value
of her face and hair. He was al
ways hunting for a new face.
He could work over his ideas
just So many times; after that,
fresh invention must be called in
TO play; the retrousse nose must
give way to the Grecian, and so
on and so forth. 1t was a busy