The Bottineau courant. (Bottineau, Bottineau County, N.D.) 1895-1929, 1919-05-22

COuHtTy SduSdSc, TUIHp SCedk duu
spring chicken" said MI. Bacon in a
cavernous voice, getting it over With
while the list was fresh In bis mem
ory. "Frfed and boiled potatoes, beans,
~succotash, onions, stewed tomatoes and
-er-just a moment, please. Fried
and boiled potatoes, beans"
"Ham and eggs, potatoes and a cup
or two Of Coffee" said Barnes, sup
pressing a desire to laugh.
"And apple pie" concluded the
waiter triumphantly. II knew I'd get
1t If you gave MI time. AS you may
have observed, my dear sir, I am not
what you would cali an experienced
waiter. As a matter of fact, +"
The bell downstairs rang violently.
MI. Bacon departed In great haste.
While the traveller performed his alb
lutions Mr.. Dillingford, for the moment
disengaged, sat upon the edge Of the
bed and enjoyed himself. He talked.
"We were nine at the start" said he
pensively. "Gradually we were re-
duced to seven, not including the a
ager. Two Of 'em escaped before the
smash. The low comedian and char
acter old woman. Joe Buckley and his
wife. That left the old mani mean
MI. Rushcroft, the star-Lyndon Rush
croft, you know-myself and Bacon,
Tommy Gray, Miss Rushcroft, Miss
Hughes and a woman named Bradley,
seven of us. The woman named Brad
law eofI 1oo voo%Hov, xrvoo 1vyfrop IN DIFF
falo, SO the rest of us scraped together
all the money we had-nine dollars
and sixty cents-and did the right
thing by her. Actors are always do
ing darn-fool things like that, Mr.
Barnes. And what do you suppose she
did? She took that money and bought
two tickets to Albany, n for herself
and another for the manager Of the
company-the lowest, meanest orner.
lest white man that ever But l am
grabbing the old mans part. You
ought to her what he has to say about
Mr.. Manager. He can use words I
never even heard of before. So that
leaves just the four of US here, work.
ing off the two days board bill Of
Bradley and the manager, Rushcroft's
ungodly spree, and at the same time
keeping our own slate clean. Miss
Thackeray will no doubt make up your
bed in the morning. She is tempo
rarily a chambermaiu. Cracking fine
girl, too. Are you all ready? I'll lead
you to the dining room. Or would you
prefer a little appetizer beforehand?
The taproom is right on the way. You
mustn't call it the bar. Everybody in
that little graveyard town down the
road would turn over completely if
you did. HallOwed tradition, you
know"
"Iedon't mind having a cocktail. Will
you join me?"
GAS a matter of fact, I'm expected
to-" confessed Mr.. Dillingford. "We've
been drawing quite a bit Of custom to
the taproom. The rubes like to sit
around and listen to conversation
| about Broadway and Bunker Hill and
Old Point Comfort and other places,
and then go home and tell the neigh
bors that they know quite a number
Of stage people. Human nature, I
guess. Listenl Hear that? Rush.
croft reciting 'Gunga DIM You can't
hear the thunder for the noise he's
making"
The descended the stairs and en-
tered the taproom, where a dozen men
were seated around the tables, all Of
them with pewter mugs in front Of
them. Standing at the top table-that
is to say, the n farthest removed
from the door and commanding the at
tention of every creature in the room
was the imposing figure Of Lyndon
Rushcroft. He was reciting, in a So
nOrous voice and with tremendous fer
vor, the famous Kipling poem. A
genial smile wiped the tragic express
sion from his face. He advanced upon
Barnes and the beaming Mr.. Dilling-
| ford, his hand extended.
my dear fellow" he exclaimed re-
%soundingly, show are you?" Cordial
ity doomed in his voice. II heard you
had arrived. Welcome-thricefold well
SE--7zzzz..