Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1915-04-08
CHAPTER II.

A rry.Out.

A Try-Out.
70 tell the truth--to blurt out moth
ing but the truth to every one, and on
every occasion, for three whole weeks
that's what Bob had contracted to
DO. From the point of view of the
commodore and the others, the man
who tried to fill this contract would
certainly be shot, or electrocuted, or
ridden out Of town on rail, or re-
ceive a coat of tar and feathers. And
Bob had such wide circle of friends,
too which would make his task the
harder: the handsome dog was popu-
lar. He was asked everywhere that
/ was anywhere and he went, too. He
would certainly "get his" The jovial
Icommodore was delighted. He would
have whole lot of fun at Bob's ex-
pense. Wasn't the latter the big boob,
though? And wouldn't he be put
through his PAGES? Really 1t promised
1 TO be delicious. The commodore and
| the others went along with Bob just
for little tryout.
At first nothing especially interest
ing happened. They walked without
meeting any one they were acquaint-
| ed with. Transients! transients!
where did they all come from? Once
lon their progress down the avenue
THE hopes of Bob's friends rose high.
AGAR they knew got held up on q SIDE
street not far away from them II
was gorgeous car and 1t had gor-
geous occupant, but grocery wagon
was between them and 1T. The COM
modore warbled blithely.
Come on, Bob. Time for q WORD
or two!''
But handsome Bob shook his head.
"The even tenor of his way ne
quoted. II don't ordinarily go popping
IN and out between while like rab.
bit. I'm not looking to commit sui
eide"
| aoh, / only wanted to say: How do
YOU do, retorted the commodore
rather sulkily. ''Or May tango with
Z you at tea this afternoon, Mrs. Raj
ston? /"
.Or observe: How young she looks
today, Ell. Bob? !" murmured that
Young gentleman suspiciously.
.Artful! Artful!' Clarence poked
the commodore in the ribs. "Sly old
sea-dog!"
aWell. let's move on yawned
Dickie. .'Nothing doing here
ssWait!" The commodore had an
idea. eli, you young grocery lad,
back up little. will you?"
..Wha' for?'' said the aggressive at
once. Babes are born in New York
with chips on their shoulders.
LAS matter OF trifing accommo-
dalton. that is ALL" answered the COM
modore sweetly. ION the other side
OF you Is stately car and we would
hold conversation with"
cav, gwan! Guess got as much
right to the street as it has. And
q display Of his rights" he even
touched up his horse few Inches, to
intervene more thoroughly.
"Perhaps now for half q dollar"
began the commodore, more tinsinuat-
Ifngiy. Then he groaned; Too late!'
The policeman had, lifted the ban. The
/ stately car turned into the avenue
and was swallowed up amid myriad
or more or less imposing vehicles.
They had, however, received bow
from the occupant. That was al
there had been opportunity for. Incl.
dentally, the small boy had bestowed
upon them his parting compliments:
Smart old guy! You think youse-
The rest was jumbled up or lost IN the
usual cacaphony Of the thoroughfare
"Too bad!" murmured the commo-
dore. "But still these three weeks
are young"
Three weeks!' . observed Dickie
sSounds like plagiarism"
..Oh Bob won't have that kind OF
1 three weeks, snickered Clarence
"Bob's will be an expurged edition"
from the commodore, recovering his
spirits.
.Maybe we ought to make it four?'
"Three will do said Bob. who
wasn't enjoying this chatting. Every
one they approached he now eyed ap-
prehensively.
But he was joy-giver, If not receiv-
er for his tall, handsome figure at
tracted many admiring glances. His
striking head with its blond curls-
they weren't exactly curls, only his
hair wasn't straight, but chung rather
wavy-like to the bold contour OF MS
head-his careless stride, and that
general effect of young masculinity-
all this caused sundry humble femln-
Inc hearts to go pit-a-pat. Bobs pro-
gress. however, was generally follow.
ed by pit-a-pats from shop-girls and
bonnet-bearers. Especially at the
noon hour! Then Bob seemed to these
humble, toilers, like dessert, after
hard boiled eggs, stale sandwiches
and pickles.
But Bob was quite unaware OF any
approving glances cast after him. He
was thinking, and thinking hard. He
wasn't so sanguine now as he had
been when he had left the club. What
might have happened at that street
corner appealed to him with sudden
poignant force. Mrs. Ralston was OF
the creme de la creme. She was de-
termined to stay young. She pretend
ed to be thirty years or SO younger
than she was. In fact, she was rather
ridiculous old lady who found 1t
hard to conceal her age. Now what II
the commodore had found opportun-
itv to ask that awful question? BOD
could have made only one reply and
Told the truth The largeneSS OF his