The Rathdrum tribune. (Rathdrum, Idaho) 1903-1963, 1920-12-03

cigars. Time was, in his bachelor
days, and, she hoped, time would be
In the future, when his pockets con-
tanned plenty Of nice. brightly banded
smokes as a matter of course.
Promptly at 6: 25 the Bronson sedan
drew up at the Pritchard curb. Madge,
pretty and slim, and softly gowned In
crepe de chine, was waiting to greet
her guests.
MY husband Is late, as usual" she
apoiogized gracefully. Committing is
so unreliable"
But Tom came in just then with
tale Of open bridges and delayed traf-
fic, and Madge slipped away.
Dinner was half over. So far every
thing had been perfect. Salad course
was next, then dessert, then coffee and
cigars In the living room by the open
fire. Horrors Had Tom remembered?
Catching his eye, she managed to
convey by lift of the eyebrows and
an inconspicuous two-fngered gesture
as of one who removes cigar from
his mouth, the query. They had been
married long enough for Tom to be
fairly well trained in this delicate do
nestle art Of signal and interpreta-
ton. Once, he would have laid down
his napkin, half risen, and said,
Something the matter, dearT But
tonight-utter darkness swept his
countenance, succeeded by an express
sion Of infinite dismay.
While shifting plates for the salad
an idea occurred to her. Only block
below was a small part grocery, part
stationery store, an unbeautiful spot
on LakewoOd's residential street, but
eXpectedly visited housekeeper. She
would start the salad, then, under pre-
text of delay in the kitchen, run down
to the store. get the best cigars they
carried, place them in the humidor In
the living room, and reappear from
the kitchen.
In the brightly lighted dining room,
about the table sparkling with shining
silver and spotless linen, Madge's
guests, toying with their cherry-topped
salad, awaited her return to their
midst-and waited-and waited
"Madge!" Tom raised his voice
slightly.
There was no reply.
Meanwhile, Madge had accom-
plished her errand and was nearly
home. Suddenly, ricocheting across
the street, skidded a loaded automo-
bile, humping with a grinding of
brakes and startled cries from the in
mates, into another car drawn up at
the curb.
Wildly hoping her absence had not
been noticed. Madge arrived breath
lessly in front of her vernnda-a
veranda which seemed filed with peo-
pie, although in reality there were
only three. The light. streaming from
the door behind, revealed Mr.. and Mrs.
Bronson, bareheaded. and Tom with a
napkin dangling In his hand.
Madge, in an agony of shame at be-
ing caught in the act of returning
from running away from her own din
ner party, little realized what pretty
picture she made as she stood below,
her cheeks becomingly flushed. her
breath coming bit quickly between
parted lips.
How explain herself? Plausible
stories .sprang to her lips, explanations
untrue,' but surely permissible under
the circumstances.
Then, suddenly. with half smile,
Here they are Tom" she said, hold
ing out a slim hand filled with cigars.
Some hours later, Tom. forgiven and
penitently committed to drowning him
self If, by Jupiter, he ever forgot any
thing again. explained how he had
| gone to the kitchen in search Of her
| Then had come q crash and, well-she
! knew the rest.
Coincidently with this conversation,
Mr.. Bronson was remarking to his
| wife: ''pritchard seems an Al sort
of chap-lne mind, although I guess
his wife wishes he'd improve his
memory" Bronson laughed.
Il think" returned his wife, com
| placently. that his little wife is 60.
ing to be an addition to our commun-
ity," Then added. epigrammatically.
"she has that Invaluable social asset
the sixth sense which saves a situa-
ton
You mean," Intercepted her huS-
| hand HSho u-ocv7'f nhoooH ..yhao ,,,o