The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-08-31
The Girl With The Jazz Heart
 BY ROBERT SHANNON
CHATTER TX.

CHAPTER TX.
 Excuse me. K.ttte requested and, ignoring the other pair she leaned over and whispered in Tommie's ear: 'swhat did tell your He's g. sticker. Think he's goin' to dop7"
 Tommfe, behind his hand, whispered back.
 "Play his easy. Wait till he hears something real and then watch him cave"
 Sprogget smiled at Maud without a trace of perturbation. He had her suffering mentally. His tenacious a0- herence to the marriage idea with the telephone operator haunted the Me- braska girl like an ice-co1d bath. She was angry with hdm for 1t, and ter rorized by it-at the same time.
 Bitter regrets for having allowed Kitt.e to assume the false Identity as sadled her. It was no good reproach- ing herself. yet her heart had gone out completely, in the miracle Of quick grown love to the tall West erner. She wanted him, and the desire was so keen that it caused g. physical pain in her breast.
 It was maddening.
 A stranger, wandering among the tables, caught her eye. She knew ne was a stranger for there was about him not one thing that was bedttinS, Swanheimer'S - from his wrink1ed suit of shoddy, too-tight clothes, to the ceNulodd collar and the straggay little tuft of whiSkers on his cnfn-
 Straight from the village store, he might have been. No effort of the imagination was required to see him whiting a long stick of pine with his feet In a coal bod, yarn1ng with has cronies around the hot stove. The gentleman, by every earmark, looked like a citizen of Purdy Center, Iowa. Something in the tnquirdng expression on his face. the blinking Of the eyes at the strange surroundings, the ti- midity with which he moved and the slightly embarrassed smile on his lips his ensemble got the character over SO well that from every table he at racted attention.
 The band broke loose with an un- expected flare and he started-almost jumped-as though some one had slapped him on the back.
 From one table a shout of laughter def1ed restraint and rang out. The ruralfte glanced at the table quickly, smiled sheepishly and looked in the other direction. It was plain that he was seeking 8 place to sit down. Strangely, no waiter took any notice of him.
 Such was the art of Bert Bowles. Timidly the rustic pulled out a chair and sat down placing hds hat. which had managed to escape the check boy, on the floor under the table. Not more than six feet separated him from Kittie.
 Nervously twiddling his fingers be- low the level of the table, he sat si- lentIy for a time.
 With a glance over his shoulder as If he were looking for a waiter, his eyes rested full on the face of Ktttie Swasher. It may be said that MT. Bowles gave Tomnae fuif value for the fifty dollars he had received, in advance. Tn pantomime alone he gave a performance that was impress sive in it's stimulation of surprise. By some trick known to actors his eyes appeared to bulge. His jaws dropped; his mouth popped open and stayed that way. Surprise was written in a dozen longitudinal corrugations on his forehead. All in all, MT. Bowles, looked like a man who was seeing a ghost.
 Maud Smith!"
 It was a squeak of recognition in which the emotions of disappPoval and delight were blended with an art tstry that exceeded even Tommie's fondest expectations.
 Well, I'll be derned-!" He came over. seized Kitties unresponsive hand and began pumping 1t as though 1t were a handle. ''The same pretty little thing you always was back in Nebrasky. Gosh, Natalie. 1t don't seem possible-you look as sweet and innercent as you did fore you run off with that gambler and got into all that trouble up in Omaha
 It was a disclosure calculated to ruin any respectable girl.