The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1921-03-18

say: MY dear, we are going to have
I just pork and beans for dinner tonight.
Won't you join us? Mr. Robert Her
vey Randolph said he would drop in
for pot-luck."
Yes; every time Pamela had accept
ed an invitation, 1t was In the rapidly
waning hope that Mr.. Randolph, be-
loved and once at the beck and call
Of these very people. would appear
and come into his own. Could she
have surmised that on two separate
occasions the knight Grant of her
thoughts had actually seen her In her
most ravishing bibless evening tucker
had driven her to two familiar doors,
taken her money with averted face
and without inspecting the "clock,"
and had passed ON to some quiet stand
to dream over her new glory and read
the latest batch Of ads crying for news
Of the whereabouts and welfare Of self
could she have known these appar-
emily Insignificant items In the daily
life Of the great city, she would have
wept her lovely eyes out twice over.
Such being her state Of heart, i'm
agine her excitement when Mr.. Mil
yuns called by appointment and re-
tailed word for word the following con-
versation which he had participated In
that very morning with Miss Madge
Van Teller of East Ninth street:
"Oh, Mr.. NiIyuns, are you doing all
that advertising for Bobby Randolph
Eyes, Madge; certainly am, and If
1t doesn't bear fruit pretty soon Ill
have to give up tobacco"
"Are you advertising for his own
good? mean is 1t important to him
mot to you-for you to find him?
Would he be really and truly glad to
be found even against his will?''
sEr-yesf er-it is-er-he would
er-if he isn't sixteen kinds of fool.
think caught them all, my dear,
but if left any out, please repeat"
EYES," admitted the lady question
mark; "your legal mind answered them
all. Now tell me just your human self
If you were in Bobby's place, would
you want to be found by you for the
purpose that you want to find him
! for?
Mr.. Milyuns did not pretend for one
second that he did not understand the
preposterously worded query.
"You bet / would" he answered
promptly and emphatically. Nov tell
me what you've got up your sleeve.
Please. Madge; that's dear grill II
you only knew how I'm worried seven
fines q day"
I'm trying to tell you," broke in
Miss Van Teller, ''but you talk SO
much can't get in anywhere. Last
night, taxi brought me home from
er-from drive, and the cabman was
Bobby, looking simEiy stuiag in one
of those awfully high-ceaheed, khaki,
waist-effect woolly coats, chauffeur's
cap, tan puttees, boots, and all"
Yes, yes,' interrupted Mr.. Milyuns;
Il know now just how he looked. What
was the 'license-number of the car, and
to which company did 1t belong2
A long pause.
"Why, didn't notice."
THANKS awfully, my dear"
Sound Of hanging up the receiver.
$50 there you are" said Mr.. Milyuns
to the very much excited Pamela.
We've got this far and. by fuke en-
tirely unconnected with the twenty-five
sleuthss have been pensioRing in adj
vance OF their lifelong service, Robert
Is driving one of the sixty-three thou
sand taxicabs that infest the streets
of New York"
poor dear!" said Pamela, tears ris-
ing to her adorable eyes. Then she dis
missed Mr.. Milyuns. who would gladly
have fingered. II have to go out now.
I'm so sorry, but thank you very, very
much"
.Can't I drop you wherever you're
going?" asked the very human mind Of
the leading legal authority on corpora
ton hedge-rows and byways.
"Oh, no." said Pamela, translucent
as love itself; II shall go In taxis."
How many vulgar vehicles for hire
were blessed by the transient presence
of Miss Thornton during the next seven
hours is matter Of gross mathematics
and consequently beneath the ken of
an intelligence that can chat along
about nice things like Pamela and Rob-
ert Randolph for pure pleasure and
subsequently sell the remarks for cold
cash. Five minutes to spot lively
cab, five minutes to ticket the driver
and pile him on the discard, two more
to find her purse. three more to look
innocent; then start all over again.
Divide seven times sixty minutes by
all that. and you've got her number.
Let us leave the statistical fiend and
pass on to seven o'clock of the near
Christmas evening when Miss Thorn
ton was momentarily out. of a cab
and strolling down the slope of the
hump in West Fifty-seventh street. A
mushy snow-rain had just begun to
fall, giving anyone with. the price a