Shoshone journal. [volume] (Shoshone, Idaho) 1884-1931, 1921-02-18

and get away with it, She won't look
over her shoulder and read the record
Of an endless losing run on the black"
Miss Van T. smiled.
I'm already beginning on my re-
ward" she said. you've never talked
so well before in your life"
Its more than talk" said Bobby,
flushing angrily. "And the ways of
access that you have imagined ~ he
continued. You read happy stories
to the public taste Of midinettes, show
room girls and dress-models, and per-
haps you think they mirror the life.
Why, Aiadge, the taunts that those
girls fling indiferently at virtue and
at vice are so vile that they couldn't
be repeated even among half-decent
men. And the other way, the private
door for the private secretary. That's
road Of burned bridges. Every
man, decent or indecent, feels a queer
sinking Of the heart when he hears of
a woman taking It," He looked at her
shrewdly. And yet you may do it,"
he said, half to himself. IF you are
one Of the hungry women, God help
you, for they all walk blindfolded."
"They don't walk" said Madge,
flushing, and her eyes cleaning
strangely. That's just the point: they
rush, whirl. and"
"And crash" finished Bobby.
that's the very word" said Madge.
"If you'll only keep on the way you've
started, I'd love to talk to you all
night"
mo chance Of that" said Bobby,
straight-lipped. I'm through. and I'm
going" He turned toward the door
Not without kissing me good-by,
Bobby" cried Madge.
He looked over his shoulder with a
polite but impersonaI smile.
I'm not much on kissing strange
women" he said lightly. st would
take me years to learn to kiss you
again"
He left the room and the house.
With his top-hat pushed back on his
head the ends of his muller flying
loose, his overcoat half unbuttoned.
he swung up the deserted lower |
reaches Of the Avenue. Dunctuating
his thoughts with the solid rap Of his
stick on the pavement. It might be
supposed that he was thinking and
mourning over the sudden demise of
the Miss Van Teller he had thought
he had known for many years. but |
such was not the case.
Mr.. Randolph was not built on
mourning lines; at the moment under |
review, he was thinking about himself |
and the strange fate that had made
him a fOster-child of fortune. He pro-
ceeded to look back ten years. Just a
decade ago he had had his one meet
ing with the young lady whose disap-
pearance had brought him an unstable
affiuence. It had taken place on this
very avenue and less than forty short
blocks away. He had reason to re
member the encounter. for it had
brought into sudden conjunction a
lovely Persian cat, lovely wire-haired
terrier. a lovely child and himself.
The cat had dashed from a proud
front door TO cross Forty-sOmething
street under the nose of a taxi-cab;
the dog had flown in yapping pursuit
anu III lliC at Su44hCQ Ills sOull@ HIS
tress off her pins. He, Mr. Randolph, !
had seized one of her flying feet,
hauled her and the terrier back to
safety, and no sooner placed her up
right and smoothed down her absurdly
short skirts than he. she. and especial
y it, the dog. became the center and
of an animated pin
wheel.
Her mistaken determination to hold
o the leash. whatever happened,
brought disaster. The said leash
wound three times round her ankles
md those of Mr.. Randolph, bringing
hem both down kerplunk and facing
ZACH other. MY. what a bump'' she
lad cried. in startled tones, and then
brown back her curly head and ,
aughed.
II was so that he remembered her ,
child of ten or eleven summers and .
10 winters, merry as a sunny day,
dark-eyed. pink-cheeked
but unspoiled. She had
isen and taken his hand. told him
Ter name. thanked him, ordered a
urried nurse to thank him, shaken /,
er finger at the terrier, and said. +,
Good-by" and Come on. Maggie" all =
lille he was still rubbing the seat of ;
is first long trousers. 7