The Little River news. (Ashdown, Little River County, Ark.) 1897-current, 1920-11-10
8
, (Copyright. hy Petes B. Kyne)


palace; whereupon Mother jerks once
more fervently implored the Almighty
to strike her pink, and the iron re-
straint Of long, hard, exciting day be-
Ing relaxed at last, the good soul
bowed her gray head in her arms and
wept, moving her body from side to
side the while and demanding, of no
one in particular, single legitimate
reason why she, a blooming old bag
gage and not fit to live, should be the
recipient of such manifold blessings
as this day had brought forth.
In the meantime Ricardo. with his
hand on the knob Of the door leading
to the room where Webster was having
his wounds dressed, paused suddenly,
his attention caught by the. sound Of a
sob, Iong-drawn and inexpressibly pa
thetlc He listened and made up his
mind that woman in the room across
the entrance hall was bewailing the
death Of loved one who answered to
the name of Callph and John, darling.
Further eavesdropping convinced him
that Callph. John, darling, and Mr..
John Stuart Webster were one and the
same person, and so he tilted his head
on one side like cock robin and con-
sidered.
"By lingo, that's most interesting"
ne decided. "The wounded hero has
q sweetheart or a wife-and an Amer
team, too. She must be recent &C
QUESTION, because all the time we were
together on the steamer coming down
here he never spoke of either, despite
the fact that we got friendly enough
for such condolences. Something fun
ny about this. I'd better sound the old
boy before I start passing out words
Of comfort to that unhappy female"
He passed on into the room. John
Stuart Webster had, by this time. been
washed and bandaged, and one of the
Sarros servants (for the ex-dictator's
retinue still occupied the palace) had,
at DR.. Pacheco'S command, prepared. a
guest chamber upstairs and furnished
a night gown of ample proportions to
cover Mr.. Webster's bebandaged but
otherwise naked person. A stretcher
had just arrived, and the wounded man
was about to be carried upstairs. The
late financial hacker Of the revolution
was looking very pale and dispirited {;
for once in his life his whimsical, BAN
tering nature was subdued. His eyes
were closed, and he did not open them
when Ricardo entered
"Well have Sarros," the latter de-
cIared
Webster paid not the slightest atten-
ton to this announcement. Ricardo
bent over him. Jack, old boy" he
queNed, "do you know person of
feminine persuasion who calls you Ca
lph?"
John Stuart Webster's eyes and
mouth flew wide open. "What the
devill" he tried to roar. "You haven't
been speaking to her. have you? If
you have. I'll never forgive you, be-
cause you've spoiled my little surprise
party"
mo, I haven't been spc'''ng 70 her,
but she's In the next roo wing At
to break her heart because .Aa thinks
you've been killed."
"YOu scoundrel Aren't yon Humanf
Go tell her it's only couple O. punc-
lures. not a blowout" FL sighed.
isn't IL sweet Of her to weep over an
old hunks like mel" he added softly.
BLESS her tender heart -
i~"Who Is sheT Ricard" vas very
curious.
"That's none OF y0cr auS!nrss. You
wait and I'll tell you. s.,4's the guest
1 told you was going to bring TO din
ner, and that's enough for you to know
: for the present. Vaya, you idiot, and
bring her in here. so l can assure her
my head is bloody but unbowed. Doc
tor. throw that rug over my shanks
and make me look pretty. I'm going
to receive company"
His glance, bent steadily on the door
had In 1t some Of the alert, bright visit
fitness frequently to be observed In
the eyes Of a terrier standing expec-
family before a rat hole. The instant
the door opened and Dolores tear
stained face appeared, he called to her
with the old-time camaraderie, for he
had erased from his mind, for the
nOnce, the memory Of the tragedy Of
Door Don Juan Cafetero and was con
cerned solely with the task Of Danish
ing the tears from those brown eyes
and bringing the Joy Of life back to
that sweet face.
"Hello. Seeress," he called weakly
Little Johnny's been fighting again
and the bad boys gave him an ALFRED
walIOping."
There was a swift rustic of skirts
and she was bending over him, her hot
little palms clasping eagerly his pale
rough cheeks. "Oh, my dear, my
dearl" she whispered, and then her
voice choked with the happy tears and
she was sobbing on his wounded shoul.
der. Ricardo stopped to draw her
away. but John Stuart bent un0n him