The Kendrick gazette. [volume] (Kendrick, Idaho) 1892-1968, 1921-04-08

Inc game enucu, as 10 I'LL JtduC |
battles, in absolute silence. Mr.. Ran
dolph sorted. stacked. tabulated his
winnings, and stuffed them into all the
pockets on his person. He then noted
the hOur-eleven o'clock of bright
Thursday morning-and, proceeding to
the nearest telephone booth. called up
Mr.. William Verries Of Verries 4 Cat,
stock brokers.
THAT you, William? This is Bob !
Randolph. William, I've got sixteen
thousand dollars in my jeans at the |
moment of speaking. What's the. low
est margin you'll give me to sell Anal.
l. s. & c. short for delivery at tomor- |
rows closing?"
"Sell Anal. l. S. 4 G. short !" gasped !
Mr.. Verries. why, you're crazy!
Buy, and I'll talk to you"
II don't want to buy" said Mr.. Ran
dolph patiently. you're right. in q
way, about my being crazy. You see,
since you saw me the other day, I've
| come into some easy long stun, and it's
| just running my experiment In the
| philosophy of moneyless life. want
| W iOcO Ihy wan yueI ,AihC WIN Jo~s
and II you don't promise to start sell
ing for me inside Of the next FIVE min
utes. TIL let friendship slide and call
up some real brokers'"
"Well, If you put it In that way, you
escaped loon, I'll assist your sap-head-
ed philosophy to your exact cash limit
When will you pony up?"
'In twenty minutes by the clock"
said Mr.. Randolph cheerfully, and rang
off.
The historic pounding drive on
Anal. /. S. & C. that started with the
opening of the market on the follow
ing day was Of such Homeric proper
lions that the advance sale made by
Messrs. Verries & Cat on behalf Of
Mr.. r. H. Randolph during the Thurs
day afternoon next preceding was
mere drop in the bucket of oblivion to
the public at large-a mere fea-bite
lost in the shutting of epidermises to
the monster saurians involved in the
combat; but to Mr.. Randolph, it was
matter of transcendent importance.
With q feeling of great relief over
an order that he had placed with his
tailor nine days previously for COM
plete new afternoon and evening out
fits, the successful hunchbuster col
lected one hundred and thirty-two
thousand, thirty-eight and no hun
dredths dollars and proceeded to turn
in his wagon to the Village Cab COM
pany, together with the highest clock
reading ever known in the history OF
Manhattan. He then chartered one Of
the vehicles for hire of that concern
and directed it to carry him to his
new clothes.
At ten minutes to four, he emerged
from his tailors, CARRIED in the very
latest thing in slim-line morning coats,
top hat, pearly-striped trousers,
spats, mottled, platinum-handled,
snakewood stick, and a gardenia in his
buttonhole. Ignoring the wise and
Misunderstanding look on the face of
the cab driver, who was none other
than our old friend of saturnine Wis
age, Patrick O'Reilly by name, fallen
on evil times, and re-engaged that very
day on Mr. RandOlph's recommends.
ton, he gave a certain address in
Fifty-ninth street.
Let us now break one Of the cardi'
nal rules of narrative for cash by
ruthlessly switching the objective point
of view. Behold Miss ImOgene Pa
N mela Thornton dressed in ravish
ing, modestly modern tea-gown effec'
that would have cost her great-great
grandmother a ducking in the pond OF
Blocker street if she had dared tt
? wear it in her day at fancy-dres'
ball, pacing up and down Mr.. Ran
dolph's recent sitting room and count
ing off nine ON her fingers, for thu
hundred and eighty-sixth time.
e And then, at last, the bell! Tom
linson, his jaw set grimly, advanced
It upon the door. For an agonizini