The Idaho recorder. [volume] (Salmon City, Idaho) 1886-1927, 1915-12-03
CHAPTER I.

The Woman Across the Street.
This is story of two stories, sepa
rate yet inseparable of wheels agoe
and of wheels awhir, the frDlic and the
business of life. What woman's
switch is to her glory, this tale is tc
that; but at night, when the game
(which really fools nobody is over
the false one may be taken from the
true and laid aside.
II all began that day when Forbes
wondered who she was He was al,
ways wondering who she was. the
blonde, the brunette. the Venetian red
the October brown. on the street. at
the play, in the restaurant 1t was a
habit, And why not? It was his
bread and butter to send the argosies
OF his imaginative glance securing the
seas for treasure; and whenever he
saw q pretty woman, bowB-on he fol
lowed in her wake. He was an illus.
traitor; he drew exquisite colored Gov
ers for the magazines and full-page
drawings for the celebrated love sto-
ries OF Mr.. Popular Piffle Indeed. he
shared honors with Piff1e. and made
quite as much money.
Every day now for week, between
three and four in the afternoon, she
had gone by, slim, trig, supple. She
looked Hike Somebody; she must be
Somebody, for nobody but Somebody
could have carried her head the way
she did. Where her journey began,
where 1t ended, he had never bothered
himself to inquire. 1t satisfied his
needs to expect her at such time
each day and to realize his expecta.
lions. Her hair burned like copper
beech In the sunshine, and her face
was as white as milk.
BY George! If he went out now he
could follow her. His ingenuity would
ind means of meeting her, inoffensive-
y He knew women tolerably well
From pretty little milli1er's assist !
ant, all the way up to the stately czar-
ma OF all the Russias their vanity |
rried out for perpetuation on canvas /
Ting-a-ling! Confound the telephone
at such momentl
Hello. hello .. Yes, this is
Forbes talking, Oh, that you
Ellison? - e. What? Eight till I
welve? Deuces WHAT Oh.
ieuces wild. Sure, | understand A
Ruiet little game of poker with the
poor artist paying for the cigars and
liquors. Deuces wild; know; you
AN make the two-spot anything you
Please , What? Opening your
partment tonight? q. In the
Dryden? Where's that? Why,
bats only block or so away
Dh, I'll be there. Rather play poker
han eat. n By-byl"
Forbes made a dash for his hat.
pushed out of the studio and down the
Rwo fights, madly and reeklessly. Too
hte! She was gone. He dashed jill
On and his poker party breathlessly
put luently, Surprising she never
Aalked past again? 1t would be just 4
Is luck.
As matter of fact, the unknown
leant nothing to Forbes aside from
e commercial value of her face and !,
afr. He was always hunting for
ew face. Like Piffie, he could work !
yer his, ideas Just so many times
tier that, fresh invention must be
Alled into play; the retrousse nose
ust give way to the Grecian, and so
and so forth.
Forbes was philosophical. too. When
was dead he would be very dead;
be Hall of Fame and the Temple OF .
Orgetfulness would be all the same
him. At present he liked travel.
bod clothes. good food, curios; he
Eed to give expensive teas in his
fautiful studio; he rather liked the
nocent admiration Of the schoolgirls
al; and he wasn't too proud to &C
pt an OCCASIONAL thousand from the
eakfast-food people and the tinted
Jap manufacturers.
Give us new phiz, FORBES" said
e editors; this one is growing
BILE"
All, those editorial degrees of en- .
osiasm. which began with slaps on
+ back, paused at luncheons. and .
fally petered down to the noncom- /
ttal ''ummums!" A new face Re
hst have 1t: and for two weeks he D.
p combed tbs town In vain. PopB 4
lty had its drawbacks: one had cen I
ually TO find new props to keep the I.
NJ from tumbling about ones ears
pnIarity, the new-coIlar. the new
the new-shoe kind bf popularity
len changes completely every six 4,
puths which has to be renewed and /
Isted about and readiusted. And /
noes there were those younger 1
Fps always bObbing up, with fresh .