The Cook County news-herald. [volume] (Grand Marais, Cook County, Minn.) 1909-current, 1916-05-31

He managed to keep It out Of the
newspapers but he had to pay stiff
fine." .,.,;5->
THAT might be worth looking up,
too" Illuminated Average Jones
thoughtfully. =
He turned to his telephone in an
swer to ring, "All right, come in,
Simpson, he said.
The confidential clerk appeared.
"Ramson says that regular black bee
ties are out of season, sir" he re-
ported. "But he can send to the
country and dig up plenty of red-and-
black Ones"
THAT will d." returned the Ad-
Visor. Tell him to have two or three
hundred here tomorrow morning"
Thus is was that, on the morning
after this dialogue, clean-built
young fellow walked along West Six
teenth street. He was rather shabby
looking. On the evidence of the band
box which he carried, his mission
should have been mental; but he bore
himself wholly unlike one subdued to
petty employments. His steady, gray
eyes showed CLINT Of anticipation as
he turned in at the gate of the high,
broad. brown house standing back,
aloof and indignant, from the roaring
Entertainments of trade. He set his
burden down and pulled the bell.
The door opened promptly to the
deep, far.away clangor. A flashing
impression Of girlish freshness, vigor,
and grace was disclosed to the caller
against background Of interior
gloom. The girl glanced not at him,
but at the box, and spoke trifle i'm
patiently.
If it's my hat, it's very late"
1T isn't, miss. It's the insects
1.-THE what?'
"The bugs, MISS
He extracted from his pocket slip
OF paper, looked from it to the num-
bered door, as one verifying an ad-
dress, and handed it to her.
Prom yesterdays copy Of the Ban
ner, miss. You're not going back on
that, surely" he said somewhat re-
proachfully.
She read, and as she read her eyes
widened to lakes Of limpid brown.
Then they crinkled at the corners,
and her laug!: arose from the mid
tone contralto, to high, birdlike trill
of joyousness.
1T must have been uncle" she
gasped finally. HE said he'd be quits
with the real estate agent before he
left. How perfectly absurd, And
are those the creatures in that box?"
"The first couple Of hundred of
'em, Miss Ackroyd."
The girl looked at him with suspi-
cion, but his face was blankly inno-
cent.
I'm not Miss Ackroyd,' she began
with emphasis, when a querulous
voice from an inner room called out:
Whom are you talking to, Sylvan"
"A young man with a boxful of
beetles," returned the girl.
Average Jones mutely held up the
box in one hand and the ADVERTISE
ment in the other.
Every we'll" said the girl, in demure
tones, though lambert mirth still flick
cred, golden, in the depths Of the
brown eyes. If you persist, I can
only suggest that you come back when
Judge Ackroyd is here. You won't
find him particularly amcnable to hui
NOR, particularly when perpetrated by
a practical joker in masquerade
"Discovered,'' murmured Average
Jones.
~ don't ask any real reason for
your extraordinary CALL" pursued the
girl with CLINT of mischief in her
eyes, "but auntie thinks you've come
to steal ny dog. She thinks that of
everyone lately"
"Auntie? Your dog? Then you're
Sylvia Graham. might have known
it,"
Il don't know how you might have
known it. But am Sylvia Graham
if you insist on introducing rae to
yourself"
Miss Graham" said the visitor
promptly and gravely, ''let me present
A. V. R. E. Jones, a friend"
'Not the famous Average Jones!"
cried the girl. THAT is why your
face seemed so familiar. I've seen
your picture at Edna Hale's. You got
her blue fires back for her. But
really, that hardly explains your be-
ing here, in this way, you know"
Nothing simpler. Once upon time
there lived crack-brained young Don
Quixote who wandered through an age
Of buried romance piously searching
for trouble. And, twice upon a time,
there dwelt in an enchanted stone
castle in West Sixteenth street an en-
chanting young damsel In distress"
I'm not a damsel in Distress" in
terrupted Miss Graham, passing over
the adjective.
The young man leaned to her. The
half smile had passed from his lips,
and his eyes were very grave.
"Not-er-if your dog were to-er-
ha drow1od nuio+11,