Mountain Home Republican. [volume] (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1915-1946, 1921-07-16

Pamela Thorntoni oh, who are
you? Why did your" She dropped
her face in her hands and sobhed as
though her heart had broken.
Randolph did not leap to comfort
her this time; he did not even watch
her. With his eyes on the edges Of
fire that peeped from between aud
round her ankles, he began to talk.
II knew you; I knew Sport; I knew
Maggie. Just once l met you all, and
I've never forgotten. l couldn't" He
smiled crookedly. "You and I sat down
so hard together and you cried out,
My, what a bump! and laughed and
laughed-just like tonight. back there
at the stage-door of the Crocodile"
Pamela stopped crying.
S you were that awfully nice
boy" she said, disclosing tear-stained
cheeks and looking him over as though
she were inventorying a long list of
points of deterioration.
Robert Hervey Randolph, six feet
tall, fr~eckled-nosed, o~pen-faced, blue
eyed and broad-shouldered. looked up
at her almost appeallngly as If his
whole sum and substance were crying
out to be appraised at face value but
no less.
That's me-" he said vapidly. my
name Is Robert Hervey Randolph.
Some people call me Bob some
Herv,' and the sidey ones say
Randy"
And l shall call you Mr.. Ran
dolph,'" said Miss Thornton bravely,
and then broke into: "After-after
I've th-thanked you again and-and
again from my heart. I'm going now"
THAT'S a wrong guess" said Robert.
smiling happily--he didn't know exact.
ly why. I'm the one that's going, aft
er YOU promise me that you'1l stay
here until ten o'clock tomorrow. But
before we come to that, please don't
thank me ever. It's selfish, but I'd
simply love to have you remember me
as Bob or Herv or, at the very worst,
Randy. Won't your"
She looked this way and that before
she let her face ripple to Its wondrous
smile.
"Ill go as fa~ as Randy" she con.
coded mischievously; then the smile
went and the shadow came. "But /
really can't stay here, you know"
Mr., Randolph leaped to his feet,
reached her In a single stride ind
caught her by both wrists. Look at
mel" he sad. "If you won't promise
IN stay here without a break till ten
o'clock tomorrow and thereafter at
your pleasure, I'll stay myself and
hold you. Now. do you or don't you?
One-two-"
81 do"
do what?" inquired Robert.
II promise"
MAKE yourself absolutely at home,
them" he said, as he dropped her
hands and turned toward the door.
II feel like Christmas eve," said
Miss Thornton meekly. won't you
please tell me what's going to hap
penn"
You've guessed it-Christmas," he
answered systematically, tossed the
latch-key on the table. and left her.
She can be excused for spying upon
him from the curtained window. She
saw him awake the cabman, and then
watched the pantomime of a long col
loquy.
"Oh" she moaned. mo wonderl
The awful, awful price of those horrld
clock things! Why did l let him tell II
to wait?'
Presently she was amazed TO see
both the driver and Mr.. Randolph dis
appear into the dark recesses of the
cab and close after them It's door. For
twenty breathless minutes she
watched, tormented by the thought
that they had retired to have It out
where they wouldn't be disturbed by
the police. But at last they Issued
both of them. Mr.. Randolph proceed
ed to crank the a and then, walking
rather strangely, went off, headed
west; the driver mounted his box,
threw In the clutch, and scurried to
the east as though he were Off to
meet the morning.
Strange doings !" thought Miss Imo-
gene Pamela Thornton, as she turned
from the window to start on a private
ly conducted voyage of discovery.
Strange dolngs, indeed, and stranger
still could Imogene Pamela have heard
ms we'll as seen. This Is what really
happened: Mr.. Randolph awoke the
cabman gently but thoroughly; then
he said:
Look here: I want to buy your
wagon"
"Gowan, boss; wot dyer take me
for? Here I been freezin' most to det'
fer two mortal hours an a gent like
you starts right In klckin' on the clock
wldout even readin' It."
"Shucksi" said Mr.. Randolph.
whats biting you? Never mind the
meter-reading; here's twenty for you
to forget that. Now tell me-: Who
owns your buzz-wagon? Your
Nav; the Village Cab company"
replied the saturnine cabman as he
stuffed the twenty-dollar bill into his
trousers pocket.
Well" said Mr.. Randolph, lyon
and I are about the same build and
I've got a proposition for you. Change
clothes. hand me over your cab, and
a. L.. a...- h..v.Jm-I ill., A. -