The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1917-02-09
EVENING STORY
The Husband Hunter.
(By Ernest A. Young.)

Heart smashing is bound to end in
husband hunting proclaimed Charles
barton, the cynic.
What do you know about it? You
never had a heart to smash" taunted
Billy Drew.
Bert Temple, the host and presiding
genius at many a smoke-talk in the
coy bachelor quarters, pricked up his
ears, for his friends We're getting on
subject which had acquired a new
intere st for him.
He had lately discovered that he had
a heart. and he was inclined to feel
bit heady over it,
You are wrong, Billy Charles as
serted, for it was a woman's perfldy
that bleached my hair years ago.
"Story.-old brand of romance" an
nounced Drew with wave of his tat
hands. All of the guests. except the
hero, smiled incredulously, but Temple
experienced a telepathic qualm such as
always warned him when something
of importance to him was coming.
81 fail to see any romance about the
process of getting stung at time of
life when a decent young chap of
mushy temperament thinks he is in
love for the only possible time, and
the girl plays up the delusion until she
finds what a boob he is and then lets
him drop.
That, in substance" continued the
cynic, was what happened Il was
the boob and Miss Doris Ward was
the perfidious maiden, anC it hap
pened eight years ago, when was %,
Yes, it's a true yarn, and for six
months 1 was the blighted being. But
that's not why my hair is gray Choir
tie over it if you find it humorous.
becs use l see the joke now as plainly
! as you do. 1 also see how Miss Doris
Ward comes to Dunbury for a winter
of sport-husband hunting"
They laughed at the story, of course
all except their host He had been
poking the fire and he dropped the
poker as if it had burned his fingers.
He got out a chunk of wood and flung
| it on the fire. sending a shower of
sparks cracking up the chimney.
The party broke up and no note was
| taken of anything unusual in Temple s
manner. They wondered a little that
he did not come along with them to a
gathering of the Beagle club at the
inn, for Temple had been curious to
hear the talk about the rabbit-ruE
ming to start the next morning.
| Charles. the cynic, Tilted eight
years ago by Doris Ward"' mumbled
| the host as the door shut out the last
| of his guests.
1t was like a clip from a blackjack
to the senses of Bert Temple. Twenty
| minutes ago the memory of Doris
Wards voice was thrilling thru his
soul, as he had listened to that voice
| the ripe age of SO he had fallen heels
over head at first sight. Altho they
had been hardly two hours in each
others society he had as good as told
her that she was 1.-The wonderful wo-
man, and that he was prepared to
| close up a marriage contract for the
earliest date that could be fixed upon
compatible with the conventions.
Now Temple felt sick, dizzy, bewild-
cred Il was the boob and Miss Doris
Ward was the perfidious maiden. "
were the words that bored into Tenn
pies consciousness. In other words
at the callow age of % Charles OAR
ton had been Tilted by Miss Ward, and
now he, Bertram Temple, at 36, had
betrayed the same brand of callow-
ness as that youngster, whom Temple
had never particularly admired.
Now, according to Charles, the
cynic, this young woman, whose
unique charm had appealed to Tenn
pies untutored heart, was a husband
hunter. THAI meant that she was
done with the royal sport of killing
for amusement, and had taken up the
practical vocation of bagging the
game. And it seemed that she had
marked him-Bert Temple, age Sc
as a likely mark.
He conJured up every singing
phase of the situation that a super
sensitive nature could imagine. So he
| vaguely hoped to get into less pain
full mood, and found instead that ii
was merely a way of refining the tor
ture.
There was little time in which to
make up his mind what to do. In an