Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1921-06-24
THE DAILY NOVELETTE,
The Sloani and the Judge
BY Martha McCulloch. Williams

"S'matter, pop?" Tony quoted glee.
fully as his father laid down a letter
with a suppressed imprecation.
Bankruptcy or breach Of promise
eh what? I"
Nothing so simple Pop, other
wise Hon, Anson Trimble, growled,
crushing the sheet of paper he held {:
THE mater writes she is bringing home
with her one Of those Swami things,
blacker, no doubt, than the ace oil
spades-and is sure III be delighted
to have him stay a month.
Good Lord !" with a whistled OBJ
lisato.. Surely not here! Has she
clear forgot her raising?'
Looks like it-but there's lot
more--she says all the fashionables in
town are daffy about the felow-and
that to carry him off this way puts her
quite at the top of the heap. He's
goin to lecture talk sublimated
damn ffoolishness, and do mystic
Eureka! Then we're safer than
safe. See him now In a purple tur-
ban and green swaddlings, gazins
into crystals and things-at so much a
gaze--and telling the world things 1t
has known since Adam was year.
ling--but won't recognize in his lingo.
Tony interrupted BE sure the women
all will fall for him-hard. Freakish
to the freaks, you know. Our game
is to sit tight. dad, look impressed
solemn as Billed owls-and have our
laughs together"
Here's better" dad interrupted:
I'm going to be a shining convert
plan giving my life, also my money, to
the great cause. That will fetch the
mater to her senses-you know she's
keen on having things for herself and
baby. Wouldn't bat an eye II l SAID
her soul was In peril--but dinner rings,
and tiaras and things-and q COM
ing out party to knock Hillwood silly
"a hint of losing them will make her
sit up and take notice.
Let me salute-a diplomat wasted "
gerated reverence. "Sir" with ora
torical infections: Had you been in
Paris I make no doubt you could have
fobbed off our dear Allies with Green
lands icy mountains-and tucked Mes
opotamia's oil fields into Uncle Sam 8
vest pocket"
well, l have to live down TO my
two went gayly about their several ar.
fairs. The letter, coming In the last
mail, had waited over dinner. Luckily
1t was a fine dinner-the thought Of
mamma and the impending Swami on
the morning train might have lessened
relish for It. =, -,
You'll tell Florry, of course but mind
she don't pass it on to her father. Then
the fat would surely be in the fire
Mrs. Trimble's .protege failed utterly
to run to Swami form. His complexion
of the palest olive was set off by Lon
don garments Of the best, mighty well
chosen as to lines and color. The sole
| Oriental touch was queer, heavy
bracelet locked about the left wrist and
| visible but rarely. His voice was clear,
| of singular range, and for the most
part pleasant, but with now and then
a grating note. Possibly that was what
moved Tony to say to Miss Flora Camp
| bell: II want to wiring his neck, tof
| all he looks like a white man. In
response Flora giggled sottly-perhaps
over memories of ardent Swami glances
encountered only that afternoon. Hill
wood femininity had surely fallen for
him-hard. His conferences In the big
| Trimble parlors were veritable crushes,
Thus the town knew that, though Tony
guyed Swami ism and all IFS works.
6is father, sitting remote, listened ap-
parently spellbound. Yet 1t was some
thing of a shock to have, him brins
| BABY. sole daughter of the house, home
| from school over the week END, ex,
nloining that Ae was conscience bound
not TO let her Miss this chance of com, y,
Ing to the truth and the light. Mrs,
Trimble iii ragged, but yainly, She was an
adept in the patter of the cult, but when
her husband began speaking 1.-THE
very deepest purple Variety-she re.
yerted violently to the speech OF sanity.
She was answered only with rapt. far,
! of gaze. Evidently her husband had
gone "into the silence marking the
true mystic convert wsn'eu MAJ av.n "