New-York tribune., 1921-06-05
BY MILDRED CRAM

the south, Fort Hancock to the east and Van
Cortlandt to the west. Pug has wholesome
respect for men who have never set foot in
the Knckerbocker and have never heard Of
F'loranz Zegfeld When he comes back he
may even underestimate us trif1e"
Rita won't CO." Mr.. Blanchard interrupted.
"Then kidnap her. A steamer sails for Rio
tomorrow morning. You can catch COM
pany boat there--the Rough Rider. She's
tub, warn you. If you want an excuse
why not represent me at the official opening
of the railway? Take frock coat and top
hat. There'li be some sort of service-fags
speeches, compliments. Entente cordae. The
government is slipping, and we are hanging
onto property literally by the teeth. It's
up to you"
Mr.. Blanchard had a vision of himself
millionaire and railway celebrty--dctating
the policy of one-track road in a sun-baked
South American republic. Inwardly he
groaned. But because he was thinking of
Ritas lack-uster heart, he said briefly:
Thanks. I'll CO."
That night he dined at home. Rita was not
there, and the servant explained that she was
dining with the Fairbankses and later "going
on" to the Chu Chin Chow. Mr.. Blanchard
groaned and retreated to the library, where
he sat him down to wait. He had two tickets
for passage aboard fruit steamer sailing in
the morning for Rio; he took them out of his
pocket and smoothed them on his knee and
smoked three large black cigars in slow sue
cession. The servants went to bed. And at
four the front door opened closed softly, and
Rita came in.
She was dressed in glorified coolies cos
tume-hydrangea-b blue pantaloons, purple coat,
orange cap set jauntily on her braided hair.
She stood in the doorway, blinking sleepily.
Sitting up? Father, what on earth has
happened?"
"It occurred to me- Mr. Blanchard said.
that you and l were seeing too little of each
other. To-day some one asked me whether
your eyes were blue or brown--and had for
gotten. Come here"
Rita kissed him and spied the tickets-as he
had intended that she should "What have
you got there?"
"Tickets. New York to Rio"
"Who's going?"
"You and L."
Rita was motionless, with her cheek against
her fathers hair
"What you doing in Rio2" she asked
I'm not going there. Further-to Magella
You remember Pug Fairchild?"
"Yes."
"He has finished his railway, and / am go
ing down to open it. A job likely to be fla
vored with the paprika Of adventure
"Why?"
They are going to have a revolution down
there--bandits versus the self-respecting ele-
ment"
He felt her hand on his shoulders '1m
crazy to CO." she whispered. "Magella-any-
where! I've played all the instruments;
I've pulled all the strings. Pm bored"
They caught the fruit steamer and sailed
away with her out of the crowded, brilliant
harbor down sea that deepened as they
Travelled southwark, into unimaginable blue
Mr.. Blanchard watched her with amazement
and pity as the big fruit steamer cut swiftly
southwark across tranquil sea. She was as
hard and bright as platinun1-and equ1.'y
precious. Civilization had given her the pol
shed surface the patina of all luxurious, ex-
pensive things.
At Rio--not Rio de Janeiro, by the way, but
reeking hot coast town farther north-they