The weekly times-record. (Valley City, N.D.) 1912-1922, 1919-05-29
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
BLIND EYES
BY IVAN GRAHAM.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
CopyriRht, Mcclure Newspaper syndicate

.A>>@>~~>H<~~>>>>> ~~~~~~>~~~~><>%>><HOS
: The day that j. Hartly Fordyce be-
came bond salesman and acquired
a wife and three children it was just
his luck to meet the loveliest girl he
had ever seen. 49,
It was early morning, and the golf
links were deserted. Only the grace
full figure of a girl swinging club
broke the tranquil peace of the scene.
Jim Hartly, as he had registered at
the hotel, advanced toward her. he
raised his hat.
you'll pardon me, MISS" he said,
"but guess you came out for much
the same reason that I did-to get
breath of fresh air. Doctors orders.
Shall we play round together"
The girl seemed not to resent his
aggressiveness, however, for very soon
they were tramping together over the
great open stretch.
This was only the first Of their early
morning games. After the second or
third they began to grow confidential.
J. Hartly was enjoying himself i'm
mensely.
Sometimes they would sit for a while
on one of those mounds of soddS1
earth called so appropriately bunkers,
and tell each other all about them
selves. Jim was a bond salesman In
Wall street, with snug little fiat In
the Bronx and a wife and three chill
dren.
The girl was a stenographer and en-
larged to the listening Jim on the
shortcomings Of her boss, the depart
ment manager. She also had a beau,
and tentatively showed the little ring
that ornamented her third finger. Jim
was here for his health. She on vaca-
ton.
It was not until James Hartly For
dyce was back again in his sumptuous
apartment in New York that he fully
realized how deep his friendship with
the girl had gone. They had not ex'
changed addresses and the incident
was closed. Fordyce was regretting
the wife and three children. That had
been little artistic touch of his own
| to help carry out the illusion and drive
| from his tired brain the thoughts that
! would come surging within him.
But how he missed those sunlit
hours on the open turf with the chum
my little stenographer as his partner
There was no use denying it even tt
! himself; he felt her loss more than he
could have imagined.
Fordyce was sitting in the conserva
| tory when his hostess discovered hin
and led him forth Ito the slaughter.
1t was the night Of the Vansittarts
ball and he had ensconced himself
among the screening palms and banks
! Of blooming dollhouse flowers for {
| quiet smoke. "~...
"Now, Hartly," Mrs. Vansittart sait
on finding him, "you shall not mop
there all EVENING"" And she literall.
dragged him out from his hiding place
He was duly presented to various
blushing debutantes, whose names h
inscribed on his dance card.
"And now / must introduce you tt
my niece from Boston.
"Betty, let me present Mr.. Hartl!
Fordyce, the famous novelist. Hartly
my niece, Miss Barstove."
Fordyce bowed before the girl at tn
introduction, but there was n
acknowledgment on her part. Sh'
drew herself up.
"Auntie," she said in ice-cold tones
"this man is an impostor. He's no
Hartly Fordyce. He's James Hartly
a bond salesman. He has wife an(
three children.
my dear child!" The amiable hos
tess fairly gasped.
EYES," went on the girl inexorably
II was playing golf at Paxton before
came on to YOU, auntie dear. This
man was there. He told me all abou
himself"
Mrs. Vansittart turned from one tt
the other speechlessly.
"Alas; it's too true" broke in For
dyce. 81 am a bond salesman with {
wife and three children. And she," hi
indicated the pretty girl with deeI
sigh, ''she's stenographer."
This, was too much for the elder
lady. She looked as though fit Of
| apoplexy would cut the proceedings
short.
"What is the matter with you two?'
she stammered at last. "Hartly! Bet
ty! Are you mad?"
The two impostors stood one on each
side of her. Their eyes met. Then
twin merry peals Of laughter floated
across the ballroom.
"Oh, auntie," laughed the dimpling
girl, cts been such a joke! You see
I recognized him the first time I saw
him.. Why, I've seen his photograph
in the papers dozen times. I guess
ed he was just pretending so az to
avoid publicity" .-..-.
"But-but you, Betty, stenograph'
er? What does it mean?" The dear