Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1922-05-05
CHAPTER v

Arizona Follows Its LawIess Impulse.
The Sea Siren was already begin
ming to fill up when Clay descended
three steps to cellar and was warily
admitted. A near-Hawaiian orchestra
was strumming out a dance tune and a
few couples were on the floor. Watt
resses, got up as Loreleis, were NOV
ing about among the guests delivering
orders for refreshments.
The westerner sat down In a corner
and looked about him. The walls we're
decorated with crude purple crayons
of underfed sirens. A statue of nude
woman distressed Clay. He did not
mind the missing clothes, bue she was
so dreadfully emaciated that he
thought it wise for her to cling to the
yellow-and-red draped barber pole
that rose from the pedestal On the
base was the legend, 1.-THE Weeping
Lady" After he had tasted the Sea
Siren fare the man from Arizona sus-
pected that both her grief and her
anaemia arose from the fact that she
had been fed on 1t.
A man In artists velveteenS, minus
a haircut, with large, fat, pasty face,
sat at an adjoining table and dis
coursed to his friends. Presently, du--
ing an intermission Of the music, he
rose and took the rest of those present
into his confidence.
Bourgeois to the core" he an
nounced, speaking of the United
States. ''What are the idols we wor-
ship? Law, the chain which binds an
enslaved people, thrift, born of childish
fear; love Of country, which is another
name for Grass provincialism. II am
a CosmOpolite, not an American. Bo-
hemia is my land, and all free souls
are my brothers. Why should 1 get
wrinkles because Germany sunk the
Lusitania month or two ago? That's
her business, not mine"
Clay leaned forward on a search for
information. Excuse me for buttin
In. and me stranger. But isn't it yore
business when she murders American
women and children?"
The pasty-faced man looked at him
with thinly disguised contempt. "You
wouldn't understand If l explained"
"Mebbeso wouldn't. but you take
a whirl at IT and I'll listen high, wide,
ard handsome"
The man in velveteens Unexpectedly
found himself doing as he was told.
Tltre was a suggestion of compulsion
aN'ut ne gray-blue eyes fastened on
h. something in the clamp Of the
.'ii- Jaw that brought him up for
iaoment against stark reality.
Tie inteligentsia of a country
isav that there can be no freedom
y.51.l there is no law. Every mans
l@tg is to disregard duty. So, by far
i.ig far on the wings of desire, he helps
break down the slavery that binds US.
CCey the Cosmic Urge of your soul re-
gardless of where it leads you, young
man"
1t was unfortunate for the poet Of
bohemia that at this precise moment
Kitty Mason, dressed in sandals and a
nlac-patterned sniock, stood before
hin with a tray of cigarettes asking
for his trade. The naive appeal in her
soft eyes had its weight with the poet.
What is the use of living in Bohemia
il one cannct be free to follow i'm
pulse? He slipped an arm about the
girl and kissed the crimson lips up
turned to him.
Kitty started back with little cry
of distress.
The freedom taken by the near-poet
was instantly avenged.
A Cosmic Urge beat in the veins of
the savage from Arizona He took the
poets advice and followed his Law
less Impulse where 1t led. Across the
table a long arm reached. Sinewy
fingers closed upon the flowing neck
wear of the fat-faced orator and
dragged him forward, leaving over
turned glasses in the wake of his
course.