The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1916-01-06

lips. She sounded the horn several
times in a troubled, nervous call for
help that quavered on the still noon
air vibrantly.
Not dead, hope" called a CHEEKY
voice from the shaded veranda, and
she lifted her face to 1t eagerly. An
other car stood at the side entrance.
and she knew it was the doctor.
With the help Of the gardener,
Forbes was lifted into the house, and
laid on a couch in the quiet, old-fash-
Toned sitting room. Ruth stood by
during the examination, ready with
anything the doctor should need. The
coat and shirt had to be cut away
from the dislocated shoulder
Now then. well just slip this back
where it belongs, and it's mighty good
for him he won't feel It. Hold his
head over there, Miss Hopewell. Just
balance it on your shoulder, will your"
Which made a striking picture to
Bart Austin. just entering. He hesi-
tatec on the threshold, watching with
lowered chin, catching that strange
little click as the bone slipped into
its place, catching. too, the agonized
groan from Forbes lips, as he was
hauled back to consciousness by the
pain. But most of all, in the picture,
there stood the slim kneeling form Of
the girl. holding Forbes head on her
own arm, and soothing him with low,
swift words of womanly sympathy.
Couple of broken ribs. and Grip
pied wrist. Better stay here and be
nursed up q Bit" said the doctor.
later.
Mother insists that he stay, as 1t
was all my fault" said Ruth, gently,
Austin stood over Forbes at the
couch by the open window.
"Ill take you up to'Hartford to the
hospital. II you say the word. old
man." he said, in low tone. 1.-The
cars all right now. She only rammed
her nose into the bank anyhow, ant
bumped her beauty spots a bit. II
| was you who hit the telegraph pole
Don't you want to get out Of this cozy
corner?"
mo, I don't" returned Forbes
placidly, half closing his blue eyes
I'm very badly hurt, Bart. You dom
pity me a bit. You run on to Boston
and attend to business there, ant
pick Inc up on the return trip. That's
a week hence. Say, take look ou
of tie window and tell me the colo
of the roses on that bush. l can
think clearly for the scent of them"
They're little red ones, crimson
rambler" said Bart. but Ruth turne'
her head and smiled.
"The red ones have only YER
faint scent, Mr.. Austin. Those that n
likes are the large cream white ones
We call them brides roses out here.
It was month before Bart Aus
tins big red roadster found its wa
along the river road again, and u
the drive under the elms. He waite
a minute or two, and sounded hi
horn. 1t was an alarmist, that horl
none of your sweet-voiced sirens fC
Bart.
Presently Mrs. Hopewell came SLOW
~ down the broad veranda steps. Sh
was slender and charming even
forty-seven, a faded edition Of Rut
at eighteen.
"How are you?" said Bart. chez
fully. lifting his leather cap. II
Bart Austin, Forbes friend. l hor
he's all right now. told him l
stop on the way home from Bosto
and pick him up, but was delayed
bit"
Mrs. Hopewell smiled amusedl
and shook her head.
"Oh, dear, you're very much tt
late. Ruth and Jack were marie
three days ago, and have started
their wedding trip in the runabor
Jack was very hasty, / thought, b
he wanted to be married while Il
brides roses were still in bloom. F.
a business man, he has quite a got
deal of sentiment"
Austin's face was buried in b
hands. and his shoulders shook wi
laughter.
Sentiment" he repeated. I'VE
if you don't mind, Mrs. Hopewell,
a call it balmy touch of sunshine
!. meath his curling locks. And yet
he hesitated. Mrs. Hopewell was me
a ing away graciously. Bart address
a. the empty car as the one sure pla
l. of sympathy. Yet she was certain
: all girl. wish I'd ,hit that telegral
| x.,.aIfv