The Tomahawk., 1919-09-04

to her desk. Bannister. peering SOL
emnly over che top of the paper, stud
led her intently. Presently she went
out. "Well, the darned- little cuss"
said Bannister to himself.
"And had the gall to think I'd make
a feature writer!"
X There was one man In the Argus
Office who was even more thOughtfully
courteous to Betty than any one else.
That was Travers, the dramatic and
musical critic. Travers was as immac-
ulate in manners as in dress. and very,
very superior. He had Harvard &C.
cent and no intimates in the Office.
Betty considered him the most genu-,
inely cultured man she had ever met.
He talked literature, particularly
poetry, with her. The day after her
beautifully pathetic picture of the
stricken widows and orphans appeared
Travers bestowed upon it an analyti'
cally calm approval that she valued
more than all the enthusiastic praise
Of the rest of the Office.
Then be invited her out to dinner.
Bannister saw them going, noted the
deferential yet protective attitude oe
the critic, and swOre volubly.
A month passed. Then came the
night Of the riot. It had terminated in
a nest Of anarchists in the slums and
It broke out of clear sky. A hard.
bad crowd gathered silently, then with
a sudden, crashing uproar began raid
ing the arms and ammunition places
The police reserves were out and the
riot call for troops sent in. The town
was in a turmoil, the streets perilous-
all in a moment. Betty had been din
ing with Travers, frequent custom.
They had been to foreign restau-
rant, little away from the center Of
things.
AS they turned a corner they found
themselves in the midst of a frantic
crowd, red-aagged, crying "Death to
capitalists!' Ono burly fellow threw
an American flag on the ground, spat
upon it, kicked it.
Betty famed into fury. "Stop that,
ou-you-creature!" she cried, shak.
Ing her fist at the brute. make him
stop 1t J" she demanded, turning to Ira
vers. With one accord the wild-cyed
crowd rushed bowling at them. And
Travers. shaking Betty's hand from his
arm, turned and fed.
The burly man, first to reach Betty.
seized her arm with cruel grip.
Thrusting his face close into hers, he
swore vilely at her in English. "We
fix such kind-you! Right now!" he
shouted. Then, still gripping her arm,
he turned, leering, to his companions
and gabbled some question in foreign
tongue.
At that instant a long police night
stick swung over Betty's shoulder and
the burly man went down with thud.
A ruck of rioters rushed ut whoever
was behind her. For an instant Betty
was in the midst of scuffling, grunt-
ing, cursing mass. A strong arm swung
her into the shelter Of long body,
and twice again the yellow stick re-
sounded on thick skulls. Momentarily
the crush of ill-smelling humanity
leaned away from her. Then around
the corner came a dozen policemen
with riot guns. The bolshevists scat
tered and fed. And Betty found her.
self smuggling tightly TO the side Of
Fred Bannistsr.
by thunder, girl, only got here IN
time!" He laughed through labored
breathing.
'Oh. dear!', shivered Betty. 1T wac
mighty lucky for me you happened to
come"
Happened be blowed heard you
mention the Little Europe as you came
out. When this started knew you
were in wrong-n that company. SO ]
bummed this club and came a.runnlng.
met Mr.. Yellow Fellow beating It.
Listen, Betty. I don't have to tell you
what sort Travers Is. He's told you all
about himself now. After this I'm 60
ing to take you around. You need an
escort with less culture and more
sporting blood"
"Well. after the way you've treated
me, l like your nerve!" protested Bet
ty; but she smiled gratefully up at
him.
"Glad you do," replied Banniste:
ITS brand new"