The Hays free press. [volume] (Hays, Kan.) 1908-1924, 1914-04-04


asked one OF them.
Yes, sir; he's waiting for you. Don't
you recognize me, Mr.. JOnes?"
Broadway stepped with her into the
lighted entry. Why" he said, as
ing beauty, you're not Clara, are
your"
She could feel the admiration in his
tone, rather than see it on his face,
for she could not look up. "Of course
am"
We'll, what do you think of that!
You're-very different-why, you were
a little girl last time I saw you!" He
pulled Wallace forward by the arm.
This is my friend, Mr.. Wallace. Bob,
this is the judges daughter, Miss
| Spotswood."
| Now, she could see her old friends
friend more clearly. Instantly she de-
cided that he was the handsomest OF
living men, She had been genuinely
glad to see Broadway. Now, immedi-
| ately, she forgot that he existed.
I'm going to get JOSIE" she ex-
claimed and fed into the night.
by heck, Broadway" Wallace COM
mented. There's pretty country girl!
1 didn't know they did it in such detail
in the rural districts
The judge came to them with
hearty handclasp. Welcome to this
house again. my boy" said he. It's
been a long time since you have seen
this room. Not changed much, eh? We
don't change much in Jonesville." He
waved his hand toward Mrs Spots
wood, who was sitting in a hutter of
expectancy, but would not rise because
it seemed more elegant to remain seat
ed. Remember that Iady?"
Broadway hurried toward her. 81
should say I do! Hello, Mrs. Spots
wood; I'm awfuIly glad to see you
again"
Now she could rise with full pro-
priety, and did so, taking his hand cor
daily. We'll, well, Broadway; it
doesn't seem possible that it's you"
Smiling in an unfeigned joy at seeing
| him, she took him by the shoulders
and slowly turned him around for in
spection.
Yes, 1 guess I've changed" he
laughed. Nobody seemed to know me
in the streets, and saw only one face
| that 1 recognized" He brought Bob
up. This is Mr.. Wallace, Mrs Spots
wood
She shook his friends hand heartily.
81 want you to feel right at home.
guess Broadway knows that all his
friends are our friends.
Wallace really was delighted by the
whole atmosphere of simple welcome;
and those eyes of Clara Spots
wood's-he wondered If, when
d,
of the gum works and came
here to live, there would not be some
reason for a branch Office Of the EN-
pire Advertising agency in JonesvilIe.
The judge called their attention to a
portrait of the dead gum magnate at
was made ten years ago." he said, in
explanation.
But he didn't change much in his
last ten years." said Mrs. Spotswood
NO; you bet he didn't" Broadway
acknowledged bitterly.
F., rs Dave in the kitchen, mom?" the
judge inquired, as Mrs. Spotswood
started for the lemonade.
Yes
He went to her confidentialIy, hand
| ing her a coin, as soon as he was sure
that Broadway and his friend were lost
in contemplation of the portrait. "Give
him this quarter them" he whispered,
land tell him to go over to the drug
store and get six good cigars for me-
Though this was mad extravagance,
she countenanced it upon this great oc-
casion. I'll tell him right away" she
promised, and the judge smiled at her
She always rose to great occasions
Didn't remember Clara, did you,
when she went to the door?" he genial
Fly inquired Of Broadway.
No; I didn't he admitted. She's
quite lady now, isn't she?"
| Nineteen, near twenty"
She's mighty pretty girl, Judge"
Wallace commented, with fervor.
Well, we're proud of her" The
judge made a gesture as if warning
them to listen carefully, and then
dropped his voice, almost to-a whisper
This was the Homecoming of Jones,
and this was Jonesville. It should, he
held. be celebrated In something
stronger than lemonade. With an eye
upon the door, he pulled flask out Of
his pocket. Il thought maybe you
boys would like little drop OF some
thing, so I brought home this flask
Can't TX you up drink, Broadway %
Jackson guessed its quality, and,
though his system yearned for alco-
hol. rejected the mere thought Not
now, thanks"
Mr.. Wallace?"
Taking his cue from Jackson, Wal
lace shook his head. ga little later,
judge
The judge put the flask back In his
pocket well, don't say anything
: about it. Mrs. Spotswood would raise
thunder If she thought brought It in
the house She's an awful temperance
crank
mot a word from me. Judge. Broad
way assured him