The Pulaskian., 1917-05-18


 the expenses of the house on the Street.
 Sorry, old man; I've made another arrangement"
 They left the hospital together. Everywhere the younger man received the homage of success. The elevator man bowed and flung the doors or,en, with smile; the pharmacy clerk, the doorkeeper, even the convalescent pa- tient who was polishing the great brass doorplate, rendered their tribute. Doc tor Ed looked neither to right nor left. *
 Sidney, after her involuntary bath in the riVer,. had gone into temporary eclipse at the White Springs hotel. In the oven of the kitchen stove sat her two small white shoes, stuffed with pa- per so that they might dry in shape. Back in detached laundry, a sympa- thetic maid was ironing various soft white garments, and singing as she worked.
 Sidney sat in a rocking chair in hot bedroom. She was carefully swathed in a sheet from neck to toes, except for her arms, and she was being as philosophic as possible.
 Someone tapped lightly at the door.
 "It's Le Moyne. Are you all right? ?''
 Perfectly. How stupid it must be for you!"
 'I'm doing very we'll. The maid will soon be ready. What shall order for supper?"
 Anything. Tn starving"
 T think your shoes have shrunk."
 "Flattereri" She laughed. "Go away and order supper. And can see fresh lettuce. Shall we have a salad?" 1 K. Le Moyne stood for a moment in front of the closed door, for the mere sound of her moving, beyond it. Things had gone very far with the Pages roomer that day in the country; not so far as they were to go, but far enough to let him see on the brink of what misery he stood.
 He could not go away. He had prom ised her to stay: he was needed. He thought he could have endured seeing her marry Joe, had she cared for the boy. That way, at least lay safety for her. The boy had fidelity and devotion written large over him. But this new complication-her romantic interest in Wilson, the surgeons reciprocal inter- est in her, with what he knew of the man-made him quail. | From the top of the narrow stair 1 case to the foot, and he had lived a years tormentl At the foot, however, he was startled out of his reverie. Joe Drummond stood there waiting for him, his blue eyes recklessly alight.
 "You-you dog!" said Joe.
 There were people in the hotel par Tor. Le Moyne took the frenzied boy by the elbow and led him past the door to the empty porch.
 "Now," he said, If you will keep your voice down, I'll listen to what you have to say.'
 You know what I've got to say"
 This failing to draw from K. Le Moyne anything but his steady glance, Joe jerked his arm free and clenched his fist.
 "What did you bring her out here for?"
 q do not know that owe you any explanation, but I am willing to give you one. I brought her out here for trolley ride and a picnic luncheon"
 He was sorry for the boy. Life not having been all beer and skittles to him, he knew that Joe was suffering, and was marvelously patient with him. l "Where is she now?"
 'She had the misfortune to fall in the river. She is upstairs" And, see ing the light of unbelief in Joe's eyes: If you care to make tour of investi- gation, you will find that am entire l ly truthful. In the laundry maid" ..She is engaged to me"-doggedly. "Eve1ybody in the neighborhood knows it, and yet you bring her out here for picnici It's-it's damned rotten treat ment."
 His fist had unclenched. Before K. l Le Moynes eyes his own fell. He felt suddenly young and futile; his just rage turned to clustering in his ears. QOuL kuOW WAclC JOu SoluC from" he said, "but around here de- cent men cut out when girls er- gagged"
 q seep
 "What's more, what do we know about you? You may be all right, but how do I know it? You get her into trouble and I'll kill you p
 It took courage, that speech, with k. Le Moyne towering five inches above him and growing little white about the lips.
 Are you going to say all these things to Sidney?"
 q am. Ard I am going 70 find out why you were upstairs just now"