The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1922-07-28

answered calmly, much anna al the
amazement of her father. Wont you
come in and see him? He doesn't seem
very desperate"
Clay arose, pinpoints of laughter
dancing In his eyes. He liked the gay
audacity of this young woman.
A moment later he was offering a
brown hand to Colin Whitford. "Glad
to meet you. Mr. Whitford. Yore
daughter has just saved my life from
the police" the westerner said. and
his friendly smile was very much in
evidence.
"You make yourself at home" an
swered the owner of a large per cent
of the stock of the famous Bird Cage
mine.
"My guests do, dad. It's proof that
I'm a perfect hostess" retorted
Beatrice, her dainty, provocative face
flashing to mirth.
"Hmp" grunted her father dryly.
I'D like to know, young man, why the
police are shadowing this houseY
II expect they're lookin' for me-"
81 expect they are, and I'm not sure
won't help them find you. You'll
have to show cause If don't"
"His bark is much worse than his
bite" the girl explained to Clay, just
as though her father were not present.
"HmpT' exploded the mining mag
nate a second time. "Get busy, young
fellow"
Clay told the story Of the fifty-fiVe-
dollar suit that l. Bernstein had
wished ON him with near-tears of re-
greet at parting from it. The cow
puncher dramatized the situation with
some native talent for mimicry. His
arms gestured like the lifted wings Of
startled cockerel. "A man gets
chance at garment like that only
once in while occasionally. Which
you can take it from me that when l.
Bernstein sells a suit of clothes it Is
shust like he is dealing with his own
brother. Quality, my friendts, qvality!
Why, | got anyhow a suit which
might be married in without shame.
un'erstan' me-"
Colin Whitford was of the West him.
self. He had lived its rough-and- tumble
life for years before he made his
lucky strike ir the Bird Cage. He had
moved from Colorado TO New York
only ten years before. The sound OF
Clay's drawing voice was like mes
sage from home. He began to grin
in spite of himself. This man was too
good to be true. 1t wasn't possible
that anybody could come TO the big
town and import into it so naively
such a genuine touch of the outdoor
West. 1t was not possible, but it had
happened just the same. Long before
the COW puncher had finished his story
of hog-tying the Swede to hitching
post with his own hose, the mining
man was sealed of the large tribe Of
Clay Lindsay's admirers. He was
ready to hide him from all the police
In New York.
Whitford told Stevens to bring In
the fifty-fve-dollar suit so that he
could gloat ever it. He let out whoop
of delight at sight of its still sodden
appearance He examined it's sickly
hue with chuckles of mirth.
Guaranteed not TO fade or shrink"
murmured Clay sadly.
He managed to get the coat on with
difficulty. The sleeves reached just be-
low the elbows.
you look like a lifer from Sing
Sing" pronounced Whitford joyously.l
"Get a. haircut, and you won't have
chance on earth to fool the police"
1.-THE color did run and fade some,"
admitted Clay.
Worth every cent of nine ninety.
eight at a bargain sale before the
Swede got busy with it--hnd he let
you have it at sacrifice for fifty,fiYe
dOllarsi" The millionaire xept happy
tears as a climax of his rapture. He
swallowed his cigar smoke and had to
be pounded on the bach by his daugh-
ter
Jenkins came TO the door and an
nounced mir. Bromfeld.
Almost on his heels q young man In
Immaculate riding clothes sauntered
into the room. He had the assured
ease VI oilc WIZ HAS lic run VI tic
house Miss Whitford introduced the
two young men and Bromfield looked
the westerner over with suaves In
science in his dark, handsome eyes.
Clay recognized him Immediately.
He had shaken hands once before with
this well-satisfied young man. and on
that occasion a fifty-dollar bill had