The circle banner. [volume] (Circle, Mont.) 1914-1939, 1915-01-01


story with logical ending. Which
means that in the last paragraph nj
one has any one else in his arms
Since logic and love have long beer
at loggerheads, the story may end bad
iy. Still, what love passages there are
shall be left intact.
Since a. M, when she had un
locked her Office door, Mrs Emma Nc
Chesney had been working in punches
OF six Thus, from twelve to one she
had dictated six letters, looked up
memoranda, passed on samples Of pet.
ticoat silk, fired the Office boy, wired
Spalding out in Nebraska, and eaten
her lunch. Emma McChesney was en-
gagged in that nerveracking process
known as getting things out of the
way When Emma McChesney aimed
to get things out of the way she did
not use shovel; she used road-drag.
Now, at three-thirty, she shut the
last desk drawer with a bang, locked
1t, pushed back the desk-phone, dis
covered under it the inevitable mis-
laid memorandum, scanned it hastily,
tossed the scrap Of paper into the
trimming waste-basket, and, yawning,
raised her arms high above-her head.
The yawn ended, her arms relaxed,
came down heavily, and landed her
hands in her lap with thud. It had
been whirlwind day. At that mo-
Chesney's face slanted downward.
But only for that moment. The
next found her smiling. Up went the
corners of her eyes. She was still
dimpling like an anticipatory child
when she had got her wraps from
the tiny closet, and was standing be-
fore the mirror, adjusting her hat.
The hat was one of those tiny, pert,
head-hugging trif1es that only very
pretty woman can wear. A merciless
little hat, that gives no quarter to a
blotched skin, too large nose, color
less eyes. Emma McChesney stood
before the mirror, the cruel little hat
perched atop her hair, ready to give
1t the final and critical bash which
should bring it down about her ears
where it belonged.
It was at this critical moment that
the Office door opened, and there en-
tered T. A. Buck, president of the
T. A. Buck Featherloom Petticoat and
Lingerie company.
"Hello!" said T. A. Buck. "Whith-
err" and laid sheaf of ,businesslike
looking papers on the top Of Mrs Nc
Chesney's well cleared desk
Mrs. McChesney, without turning,
performed the examining process sue
cessfully, SO that her hat left only
a sub-halo of fluffy bright hair peep
ing out from the brim.
Then, Playing hooky," she said.
go way"
T. A. Buck picked up the sheaf Of
papers and slowed them into an inside
coat pocket GAS president of this
large and growing concern" he said,
II want to announce that I'm going
along"
Emma McChesney adjusted her furs.
"As secretary of said firm l rise to
state that you're not invited"
T. A. Buck, hands in pockets, stood
surveying the bright-eyed woman be-
fore him.
IF the secretary of the aboye-men-
toned company has the cheek to play
hooky at $3.50 p. m. in the middle of
November, fancy the president can
demand to know where she's going,
and then go too"
Mrs. McChesney unconcernedly
fastened the clasp Of her smart Eng
fish glove
Didn't you take two hours for
lunch? Had mine of the top Of my
desk Ham sandwich and glass Of
milk. Dictated six letters between
bites and swallows" /,
A fro 4 of annoyance appeared be-
tween T. A. Bucks remarkably fine
eyes. He came over to Mrs. McChes- |
ney and looked down at her.
Look here, you'll kill yourself. It's
all W well to be interested in ones I
business, but draw the line at ruin
ing my digestion for It.. Why In Sam 4
Hill don't you take decent hour
at least?"
only bricklayers can take an hour
for lunch" retorted Emma McChes-
ney. when you get to be lady '
captain of finance you can't afford it."
She crossed to her desk and placed t
her fingers on the electric switch. '
The desk light cast q warm golden a
glow on the smart little figure in the
rim. tailored suit, the pert hat the
shining furs- o
T. A. Buck drew long breath as ?