The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1914-04-06
Continued from Saturday,
CHAPTER XVI.

Mr.. H0lcOmDe was up very
early the next morning. l heard
him moving around at five o'clock
and at six he banged at my door
and demanded to know at what
time the neighborhood rose: he
had been up for an hour and
there was no signs of life. He
was more cheerful after he had
had a cup of coffee, commented
on Lida's beauty, and said that
Howell was lucky chap.
THAT is what worries me, Mr..
Holcombe," ! said. 81 am help
ing the affair along-and what If
it turns out badly?"
He looked at me over his
glasses. ut isn't likely to turn
out badly" he said. II have new
er married, Mrs. Pitman, and
have missed a great deal out OF
life."
Perhaps you're better off: II
you had married and lost your
wife" | was thinking of Mr..
Pitman.
mot at ALL" he said with en-
phasis. Its better to have mar
ried and lost than never to have
married at all. Every man needs
a good woman, and it doesn't mat
ter how old he is. The older he
is, the more he needs her. | am
nearly sixty"
l was rather startled. and I al
most dropped the fried potatoes.
But the next moment he had got
out his note book and was going
over the items again. pillow
Slip" he said, knife broken, onyx
clack-wouldn't thing so>much of
the clock II he hadn't been so
damnably anxious to hide the
key, the discrepancy in time as
revealed by the trial-yes, 1t is as
clear as bell. Mrs. Pitman, does
that Mcguire woman next door
sleep all day."
She's up now" / said, looking
out the window.
He was in the hall in a mo-
ment, only to come to the door
later. hat in hand. us she the
only other woman on the street
who keeps boarders?"
She's the only woman who
doesn't" | snapped. She'll keep
anything that doesn't belong to
her-except boarders."
"Ah!"
He lighted his corn-cob pipe
and stood putting at it and watch
ing me. He made me uneasy:
thought he was going to continue
the subject of every man needing
a wife, and I'm afraid I had al
ready decided to take him IL he
offered, and to put the school
teacher out and have real parlor
again, but to keep Mr.. Reynolds,
he being tidy and no bother.
But when he spoke, he was
back to the crime again: did you
ever work a typewriter" he
asked.
What with the surprise, I was q
little sharp. II don't play any
instrument except an egg-beater,'
/ replied shortly, and went on
clearing the table.
II wonder-do you remember
about the village idiot and the
horse? But of course you do
Mrs. Pitman; you are a woman OF
Imagination. Don't you think you
| could be Alice Murray for few
moments? Now think-you are a
J stenographer with theatrical am
billions: you meet an actor, and
you fall in love with him, and he
with YOU"
That's hard to imagine, that
last"
Not so hard" he said gently
"Now the actor Is going to put
you on the stage, perhaps In this
new play, and some day he Is
going to marry YOU"
us that what he promised the
girl?"
According to some letters hel
mother found, yes. The actor IL
married, but he tells you he will
divorce the wife; you are to wal
for him, and in the meantime he
wants you near him; away from
the office, where other men are
apt to come in with letters to be
typed, and to chaff you. You are
a pretty girl"
"It isn't necessary to overwork
my imagination" I said, with q
little bitterness. | had been a
pretty girl, but work and worry
Now you are going to New
York very soon, and in the mean
time you have cut yourself off
from all your people. You have
no one but this man. What would
you do? Where would you go?"
"How old was the girl?" ~