The Bienville Democrat. [volume] (Arcadia, Bienville Parish, La.) 1912-1980, 1921-03-03

":ou are" exclaimed Mr.. Randolph
"Well, let me tell you it isn't from
buzzing round a two-lnile circuit
What did you have for dinner?"
Miss Viyienne shut her lips tight.
wont you please play my game?
she asked family.
Mr.. Randolph frowned as though
considering the subject very seriously
but the matter that held his attention
was not the proposed guessing-match
That would not have been fair nor
amusing, as the headlights Of his own
very comfortable apartment blinked
at him every time they came to Fifty,
ninth street. He was justifyng to
himself It very questionable move. He
wished to feed this stray damsel and,
at the same time, talk to her with a
purpose. He could not see himself
doing it in a cabaret, and every hotel
supper room had already become one
of those things. He came to a decision
and spoke. =
"lll take 4 hand in your game, all
right, but not just as You think. Do
yoll--W0ula You trust me"
Immediately the Girl was on her
guard. She looked into his face and
read it,
i would never have thought Of not
trusting you if you hadn't asked that
old. old trap question: she said
graveiy.
"Forget that I asked it," said Mr..
Randolph promptly, and leaned out to
give the driver his address. A thin
Tipped and weary scorn was still on
that individuals face when he drew
up before Mr.. Randolph's abode and
honked three times derisively to the
world in general as seen from the
front of taxi.
wait" said Mr.. Randolph to the
1ehu, rs he handed out the girl. She
paused with one foot halfway to the
curD, but that single word directing
anything as expensive as q taxi to
stand by treasured her,
Randolph preceded her to show the
way and turn on lights. He never
looked back no see if she followed, and
this implied trust in herself seemed to
drag her after him up the single flight
Of stairs that led to his rooms.
"Old-fashioned but cozy," he said
as he applied a latch-key and opened
a door that gave directly on a large
square sitting room. 81 hate elevators
in place you call home"
In an open crate was dying wood
hre' He proceeded to poke and feed
1t at once, saying over his shoulder:
"Slt down anywhere, will you?"
racing the fire was deep and much
worn leathern couch, with a pedestal
at each end carrying shaded lamps
They were the only ones he had light
ed and their glow was so subdued that
1t blended with that of the fire without
nsht'ng 1t. The girl chose to seat her.
self stiflIy in a corner of this couch,
Mr.. Randolph looked at her rigid
pose with marked disapproval, but
said nothing. Having rejuvenated the
lire till it leaped merrily to an attack
on the fresh backlog, he left the room
and was absent for a considerable
time. When he returned, it was to
place a small table before his guest
and then he fetched tray well load.
ID with those things which grace in ,
)erpetuity healthy bachelors larder,
he drew up chair for himself and.
With an inviting nod, started to eat a {
'reat deal and very rapidly. {
Get in on the lunch while there's ]
ime," he admonished. II warn YOU {
here's nothing more in the house." 8
The girl gave him grateful look I
md proceeded to fill herself with the g
most sustaining food within reach, !
She did not fail to note that there
vas nothing to drink but water, When
hey could eat no more, Mr.. Randolph
the table, and then seated
imself in the opposite corner of the
ouch.
you don't seem to be at ease here"
e said presently. IF you think you'll
e more comfortable, we can 20 down
nd sit in the cab. want to talk to .