The Watertown weekly leader. [volume] (Watertown, Jefferson County, Wis.) 1912-1917, 1916-10-04
CHAPTER IV-Continued.

Would you know her if you saw
herr"
Il don't know" Whitaker frowned
with annoyance. shes six years
older"
"Wen. but what was she like?'
Drummond pursued curiously.
Whitaker shook his head. "It's not
easy to remember Matter of fact.
don't believe | ever got one good
square look at her 1t was twilight
in the hotel, when I found her; we
sat talking in absolute darkness, to-
ward the end even in the minister's
study there was only a green-shaded
lamp on the table; and on the train
we'll we were both too much worked
up, fancy, to pay much attention to
details"
Blonde or brunei"
Il swear | don't know. She wore
one of those funny knitted caps, tight
down over her hair all the time"
Drummond laughed quietly.
Il don't feel in a joking humor,"
Whitaker said roughly. ITS serious
matter and wants serious treat
ment What else have we got
to null over?"
There's enough TO keep us busy for
several hours" he said. For instance,
there's my stewardship"
'Your which,"
my care of your property. You left
good deal of money and securities
lying round loose you know naturally
/ felt obliged to look after 'em. There
was no telling when Widow Whitaker
might walk in and demand an account
ing | presume we might as well run
over the account-though 1t is getting
late"
"Half-past four" Whitaker informed
him, consulting his watch. Take too
long for to-day. Some other time"
Drummond's reply was postponed by
the office boy. who popped in on the
heels of a light knock.
Mr. Max's outside" he announced.
20 the deucei" The exclamation
seemed to escape Drummond's lips in
voluntarily. He frightened them an
grily, as though regretting the lapse
of self-control, and glanced hurriedly
askance to see if Whitaker had no.
ticed. I'm busy" he added, a trace
sullenly. Tell him I've gone out"
But he's got impeachment" the
boy ->rotested. And besides, 1 told
him you was in"
You needn't fob him off on my ac-
count" Whitaker interpOsed. I'VE can
finish our confab Iater-Monday-any
time It's time for me to be getting
uptown, anyway"
1T isn't that Drummond explained
doggedly. "Only-the mans bore,
and"
1T isn't Jules MAXI" Whitaker ex-
citedly. Not little Jules Max, who
used to stage manage our amateur
Shows?"
That's the man." Drummond adj
mitted with plain reluctance.
Then have him in. by all means. |
want to say howdy to him, if nothing
more. And then I'll clear out and leave
you to his troubles"
Drummond laughed a trifle sourly.
Max has developed into a heavy
weight entrepreneur, you know
Meaning theatrical manager? Then
why not say so? But / might've
guessed he'd drift into something of
the sort
A moment later Whitaker was Wig
hn IL
deed the apparently boneleSS-hand of
Jules Max The hat that had made
Hammerstein famous Max had appro-
priated-straight crown. fiat brim and
immaculate gloss-bodily. Beneath it
his face was small of feature, and fat.
A pince-nez sheltered his near-sighted
eyes His short, round little body was
invariably by day dressed in dark
gray morning-coat. white-edged waist
coat, assertiveIy-striped trousers, and
patent-leather shoes with white spatS.
He had a passion for lemon-co'ored
gloves of thinnest kid and slender
malacca walking-sticks His dignity
was an awful thing, as ingrained as
his strut.
he IedSSeIleu the dignity now WITH
jerk of his maltreated nand. read
justed his glasses, and resumed his
stare.
Either" he observed, you're Hugh
Whitaker come to life or a deuced out
rage"
Both If you like"
"You sound like both," complained
drowned in fhe Philippines or some
where long ago, and l never waste
time on a dead one. Drummond
-" He turned to the lawyer with a
vastly business-like air.
mo, you don'tr" Whitaker insisted.
putting himself between the two men.
Il admit that you're a great man