The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1916-09-12
A GAME OF BLUFF
BY HOPE AIHSLIE.

| they could give Bruce's new roadster
a trial spin to the Country club. AS
| he read an advertisement a second
| time, he sat for a moment with his
| gray eyes looking thoughtfuIly ahead.
Then he chuckled softly, and sang,
She's the Lass for Me" just as his
uncle came from private Office, cap
and light overcoat in hand.
Who's the lass this timer" asked
his uncle
Miss Letitia B. Addington of Add
ingtonia," read Bruce, referring to the
! advertisement. do you happen to
know herr"
Yes, 1 do, but as she is old enough
to be your grandmother. can't quite
| see her as the lass for you
But I'm going to be her landscape
gardener, not her gallant lover, Uncle
Bob. Just hear her plea: Wanted, a
landscape gardener to advise and in
struct, for reasonable compensation,
about municipal and private gardens
in conservative town Of five thou
sand But tell me how did you come
to know the lady?"
Used to hold court in Addingtonia
when | was on the judicial circuit, and
that woman owned half the town and
was close as the bark on a tree"
well, if she is going in for mu-
nicipal gardens at her own expense,
she must have had change of heart, .
| yentured Bruce.
"She must have lost her mind"
bIuntly
F When Bruce left the house the next
day De remembered that it was Friday
and that the regular directors meet
ing had been postponed until Monday
That left nothing of great Importance
awaiting him at the Office, and as he
slipped into his snug seat in his shiny
new roadster, he deliberately turned
his car from a downtown direction
and shot out toward the wood beyond
the City park. The farther he went
the more he thought he would like to
take the S0-mile run to Addingtonia,
and make a bluff at qualifying for
landscape gardener for the ancient
lady. Consequently, a little after
noon, his shiny green roadster,
dimmed by the dust, slipped smoothly
along the shady streets of Addingtonia
and a street corner loafer readily an
swered his inquiry about the location
of Miss Addngton's place.
In answer to his knock, the door
was opened by a diminutive woman in
a gown of vast dimensions, a regular
hoop-skirt affair with founces and
Dolly Warden designs which became
confused blur in the dim light of the
broad hall. But the incongruity of an
1860 ball gown worn as morning
house gown in 1916 made him recall
his uncle's suggestion that Miss Add
ington had probably lost her mind
She sat in a dark corner of the
drawing room and Bruce couldn't
make out enough of her face to tell
whether she looked sane.
In desperation, Bruce began to talk
of the garden plan he had evolved as
he came in. Miss Addington sat on
the edge of her chair and nodded af-
Tentatively more than once, but did
not speak. He felt stified thus shut
up in the darkened drawing room with
the mysterious woman, and suggested
that they inspect the grounds. The.
lady rose in silence and rustled out in>
to the hall where she snatched up
huge poke bonnet and quickly put it
on, pulling it so far down that when
walking beside her Bruce could not
see even the tip Of her nose.
But the spell of the quaint old place
was on him, and he began really to en-
thuse about the possibilities of the
grounds. To his amaZement, the lady
responded with like enthusiasm, and
in voice of wondrous sweetness. She
even withdrew her hands from the ca
pacious folds of her gown and flung
them wide. As she did so, Bruce's
eyes went wide with wonder, for the
hands were soft and plump and white,
with pinkish, oval nails.
Puzzled at his silence, the lady gave
the big bonnet a backward push, and
turned her face directly up toward his.
The climax of his amazement came
when he saw within that old bonnet
| lovely, girlish face, lighted with Starry
brown eyes and framed with brown
| hair.
"Of course, I'll have to explain now"
she said, with defiant toss of her head
and a twinkle in her eyes. You see,
slipped on one of dear Aunt Letitia's
gowns just for comparison with the
new styles. You clicked the old knock
er just as / passed the door, so /
thought it would be fun to go on and
make believe I was real antebellum
lady. But I've made sad failure.
"You succeeded admirably until you
/ let me see those hands," Bruce reas-
sured her.
Poor Aunt Letitia died three
months ago and left me this lovely old
place with the request that / give to
it and to the town some of the bright
ness she might have given them"
But, really" confessed Bruce, Tn
only buffer myself, not real land
scape gardener, at ali" And he pro-
ceeded to explain his presence there.
$50 we're both takers, are we? But
we've already found that we have the
same ideas about gardens, and pro
fessional would probably stifie every
suggestion I'd make, so why not blum
it out together after all?"
| Bruce looked his delight at the sug-
gestion, and it proved to be an in
stance in which the bluff worked salts
factorily for all concerned.
Copyright, 1916, by the Mcclure Newspa-
| per Syndicate)