The weekly times-record. (Valley City, N.D.) 1912-1922, 1921-11-24
The Brussels
Sprout Duel
By Hazel. SMITH.


l A:,d served Monsieur lie Marquis
faith. ui!N lCr fifteen years. That Is
adayS. for it seems that one changes
his iUt.rr as often as his OvercOat.
But Mons eur would never let any Of
his servants depart. Besides, my faith
er .!s,:i S~r\ ed his father Il lifetime.
We had lad great trouble during the
five years preceding MonSieur's death,
for his daughter became attached to
worthy young man whom Monsieur
r's' h.lely refused to allow within the
:" aleu-. He WAS Il son of the Comte
e. =" I.Que;te. but he was Dreyfus-
ard. Enough. France has been rent
In twain by the affair, and In our
home :; WAS MOI otherwise. Mademoi-
sellc Eenriette wept bitterly but at
last she ncquieSced to the inevitable,
and Monsieur Paul went to America,
heart-broken.
But after my master died conceiv-
ed mn idea. had long wished to visit
America, for had heard rumors from
returning visitors that Il chef at the
Hotel Planksteak, New York. had in
vented salad which was Identical
With the famous salad of my master.
Enough. l must needs go, find the
thief. and ram his salad down his
throat.
'MademOiselle Henriette," said re-
specially, the night before I sailed,
''can he Of service to you In
American"
She looked up and I knew Of what
she was thinking.
my dear FRIEND" she answered, y
understand. But l cannot stOop to ask
Monsieur Paul to return to me. 1t
must be Of hts own accord"
AT least he should know that Mon
sieur lie Marquis Is dead" an
swered.
"Then heaven bless and guard you
in your dangerous venture, Jean Biz
rabou." she said
Enough! Twelve days later behold
me. Jean Birrabou, seated at a table
in the luxurious Hotel Planksteak.
Six salads did l order and consume
that day. And then, just as I decide
that the rumor is false, the waiter
brings me the Salad Imaginaire.
gasped, for there before me is the
identical salad of my master the Mar
quis, invented by him and known only
among the high aristocracy OF France.
I fixed him with my eye.
"Who has invented this salad?" l
demanded haughtily.
ut is I, Monsieur" answered the
waiter, cycling me bravely.
rose from my seat and took the
salad bowl, inverted it, and clapped 1t
on his head. so that the oil ran down
over his shirt front
"Dog Of a thief :" Kissed, you stole
that salad" The walters separated us.
drew my card from my pocket and
presented it to the scoundrel.
"Your salad" said, us my masters
salad"
That evening his seconds called at
my boarding house.
True to my word, behold me in a
morning, my will made, my last mes
sage to Mademoiselle in an envelope
awaiting postage, my soul ready to
face the future. l saw my enemy
tremble They handed us our pistols.
My hand trembled; the memory Of
eyes filling with tears. I could not
longer see the scoundrel whom I was
80 soon to KILL
"Fire!"
Our weapons went off together.
saw my foe standing unmoved, smile
of malice playing upon his lips
felt a violent blow upon my breast
bone. I sank down In the straw.
II forgive you, monsieur!" I said,
as he came toward me. "Wait till l
die; then heap the straw over me-"
Gently he unbuttoned my coat and
felt for the gaping wound. I closed
my eyes In agony. Lo! A moment
later and he was holding up a small!
crushed pellet.
"Your wound is but superficial,
monsieur" he announced. "See,
have found the bullet"
The pellet was wrapped in silver
foil. Slowly he peeled It off, disclos-
Ing to my anguished eyes-a Brussels
sprout: It had fallen harmlessly
upon my waistcoat.
rose to my feet, stupefled. My
enemy came forward and held out his
hand to me.
my dear friend Birrabou." he said.
'DO you not know mef'
looked at him, and suddenly
gasped from amazement. I had seen
his photograph upon mademoiselle's
desk.
Monsieur PAUL." exclaimed, and
he bowed suavely
Enough! Think how nearly came
to killing him whom I had set out to
find! But we have returned to France
now, and whenever Monsieur and
Madame Henriette have guests It Is
I, Jean Barribou, who makes the salad
Of Monsieur lie Marquis.