The spectator., 1921-08-12

magnitude. He decided that 1t didn't much matter who waited the couple from dinner to the show. but that the next entr'act would hold the crux of he nights entertainment for the cab that secured the freight for the caba- ret would stand good chance of nail- ing it after the ball.
 Consequently he was content to pick up gutter-snipe and then trail his prey to the theater "Them is the two.n he said to his ally, suborned with the promise of two bits, cash on delivery. the John with the high hat and the dream-dame Tn smoke-colored chiffon"
 That's some name for a skirt, Cap,' said the extreme youth admiringly, "an' some skirt, believe me. Nor! I won't forget 'em."
 And he didn't No sooner had Mir. Beacher Fremont, bearing thistle down burden on his arm, swelled out from the theater with the anxious look on his face of man with three cars in the garage at hone and no call
 
 pocket, than the imp was at his side. Say, mister, wanter taxi? Got one at the head of the line that I'd give up just to youse for dime"
 Lead me to it." said Mir. Fremont.
 Say" said the snipe to Randolph inside on fer friend. You watch yeself."
 It was a short run to the lair of the Midnight Rolic, but Mir. Randolph was not surprised at the double wage he rece ed nor at the murmured con versation that accompanied it. Fill up your gas tank and wait for me at the Seventh avenue northeast corner. Get me?"
 Sure" grunted Mir Randolph. Where to, mister?"
 Greenwood hostelry." breathed the villain.
 .1m on,'' said Mir. Randolph. ran his car to the comfortably quiet nook designated, dug out a road map of Manhattan and vicinity. scrutinizsd | 1t carelessly and settled down to medi- tate.
 To n select and once atIluent few the name of the G. hostelry above mentioned will bring certain vivid recollections and will also place the | chronology of this yarn, for the | said abode of revelry was too good to last very long; 1t choked to death on Its own popularity and consequent pub licity. From the outside, even in its hey-day. it presented a most Innocu- ous appearance. just a renovated farm house standing under a clump of veii- Ing sugar-maples on the top of hill whence the nearest neighhor was out of sight.
 But once within it's modest portal. Its habitues found themselves in the clevereSt fake atmosphere of pleas ure-loving decade. An organizing gen ius. sensitive to all those cheap ad- Juncts which usually grate on the soul lowering at the edge of the decline to Avernus, had pandered effectively to an ignoble end and made of each small room an isle of forgetfulness;
 
 supper and drinks extra.
 For the benefit of those who do not remember the epoch of the Green wood hostelry and are consequently reading on and on in mortal dread Of the paragraph that will introduce the War. let 1t be said at once Forget 1t. Stake out the beginning of the inter- national mix-up, hurl another bound ary mark into November of 1918. and the time left outside of those limits will be found entirely sufficient to the needs of this chronicle. Let it further be noted that 1t Is inconceivable that a single drop of the kind of blood which flowed in the veins of Mir Rob ert Hervey Randolph could ever an- swer to the name of stacker. proof positive in itself that the events herein set forth happened when the War didn't.