Williams news., 1916-05-25

Chetwood. If you want to thank any body, thank her." Warrington missed the searching glance, which was not without it's touch of envy. You'd bet ter be off. Hustle back as soon as you can" Elmore offered his hand now Cad! but you haven't lost any of your old grip"
 "I'm a bit dazed. The last six months have loosened up my nerves"
 "Nobody's made of iron.'
 'Td sound hollow if I tried to say what feel. I'll be back week from today"
 "I'll look for you"
 As the door closed behind Warning ton, the young millionaire sat down, scowling at a cubby hole in his desk. He presently took out letter post marked Yokohama. He turned it about in his hands, musingly. Without read ing it (for he knew it's contents welD he thrust it back into the cubby hole Women were out of his sphere. He could build a bridge within dollar of the bid; but he knew nothing about women beyond the fact that they were always desirable.
 A few monosyllables. a sentence or man would have recounted every incl dent of note during those ten years. He did not admire Warrington any the , less for his reticence. It took a strong man to hold himself together under all these blows from the big end of for tunes horn.
 Paul was a born engineer; Arthur had entered the office as a makeshift. Paul had taken eight thousand one day, and decamped. Arthur had re- funded the sum, and disappeared. Ell, more could not understand, nor could his father. Perhaps some of the truth would now come to light. Somehow, Paul, with his blond beard and blonder head, his bright eyes, his tan, his big shoulders, somehow Paul was out of date. He did not belong to the times
 And Elsa had met him over there; practically ordered (though she had no authority) that he should be given a start anew; that, moreover, she would go his bond to any amount uhAy O1u WOliu: well, ue was Slao Paul was man, big man, and that was the sort needed in the foreign bridge building. He rolled down the top of his desk and left the building He was in no mood for work.
 The evening of the third day found Warrington in the baggage car, feed ing a dilapidated feather-molting bird who was in a most scandalous tenn per. Rajah scattered the seeds about spurned the banana-tip, tilted the wa ter cup and swashbuckled generally By and by, above the clack-clack ot wheels and rails, came a crooning song. The baggageman looked uI from his waybook and lowered his | pipe. He saw the little green bird pause and begin to keep time with its head. It was the Urdu lullaby James the little parrott. Warrington went back to his Pullman, where the porter l greeted him with the information that the next stop would be his. Ten min utes later he stepped from the train small kitbag in one hand and the parrot cage in the other.
 He had come prepared for mistake on the part of the natives. The single smart cabman lifted his hat, jumped down from the box, and opened the door. Warrington entered without speaking. The door closed, and the coupe rolled away briskly. He was perfectly sure of his destination. The cabman had mistaken him for Arthur It would be better so. There would be no after complications when he de parted on the morrow. As the coupe took turn, he looked out of the win dow. They were entering driveway lined on each side of which were chest nuts. Indeed the house was set in tn, center of a grove of these splendit | trees.
 Warrington went up the broad veranda steps and pulled the old-fash toned bell cord. He was rather amazed at his utter lack of agitation. He wa as calm as if he were making a cal upon a casual acquaintance. Hi mother and brother, whom he had no seen in ten years! The great oak doc drew in, and he entered unceremoni ously.
 ''Why, Marse A'thuh, di'n't see yo go out!" exclaimed the old negro serv ant.
 q am not Arthur; am his brothe Paul. Which door?"
 Pop-eyed, the old negro pointed to door down the hall. Then he leane against the banister and caught des perately at the spindles. For the voic was not Arthur's.
 Warrington opened the door, close it gently and stood with his back to il At desk in the middle of the FOOT sat man, busy with books. He raise his head.
 Arthur, don't you know mel"
 "Paul?'
 The chair overturned; some book thudded dully upon the rug. Arthu