Phoenix tribune., 1922-09-30

III Want to Go to That DanceI"
OH She's got wye about er! And
I'll bet she's going with Maurice RO-
dame! OH She's got a wye about
'eri"
"Oh, shut upI" grOwled Fairchild,
but he grinned In schoolboy fashion
as he said 1t. Harry poured half can
Of oil upon the bearings of the chiv
wheel with almost loving tenderness.
"She's got a wye about 'er!" he
echoed. Fairchild suddenly frowned.
"Just what do you mean? That
she's in love with Rodaine and just"
SOW should know? But she's got
wye about err"
"Well," the firm chin of the other
man grew frmer, ''it won't be hard
! to find outw
And the next night he started upon
consider that social. events had been
few and far between for him, that his
dancing had progressed little farther
than the simple ability to move his
feet in unison to music. Years Of Of
fee and home, home and Office, had not
allowed Robert Fairchild the natural
advantages of the usual young man.
But he put that aside now; he was
going to that dance, and he was going
to stay there as long as the music.
sounded, or rather as long as the
brown eyes, brown hair and laughing
lips of Anita Richmond were apparent
to him. What's more, he carried out
his resolution.
Again and again Fairchild's eyes
searched the crowds, the multicolored,
overdreSsed costumes Of the women,
the old-fashioned affairs with which
many of the men had arrayed them
selves, ranging all the way from high
leather boots to frock suits and stove
pipe beaver hats. From one face to
another his gaze went on; then he
turned abstractedly to the long line
of tables, with their devotees Of keno,
and bought a paddle.
From far away the drone of the call
er sounded in a voice familiar, and
Fairchild looked up to see the narrow
eyed, Scared face of Squint Rodaine,
who was officiating at the wheel He
lost interest In the game; lackadais-
squares as the numbers were shouted,
finally to brush them all aside and de-
sert the game. His hatred Of the RO-
DANES had grown to a point where
he could enjoy nothing with which
they were connected, where he de-
spised everything with which they
had the remotest afiliation-excepting
of course, one person. And as he rose,
Fairchild saw that she was just enter
Ing the dance hall.
Only a moment he hesitated. Mau-
rice Rodaine, attired in a mauve frock
suit and the inevitable accompanying
beaver, had stopped to talk to some
one at the door. She stood alone, look
ing about the hall, laughing and nod
ding-and then she looked at him
Fairchild did not wait.
From the platform at the end Of the
big room the fiddles had begun to
squeak, and the caller was shouting
his announcements. Couples began to
line up on the floor. The callers voice
grew louder:
Zone more couple-then the dance
starts. One more couple, lady an a
gent! One more"
"Pleaser' Robert Fairchild had
reached her and was holding forth his
hand She looked up In half surprise,
then demurred.
"But don't know these old dances"
Neither do Tor any other for that
matter" he confessed with sudden
boldness. "But does that make any
difference2 Pleasei"
She glanced quickly toward the
door, Maurice Rodaine was still talk
ing, and Fairchild saw little CLEAN
come into her eyes-the CLEAN that
shows when a woman decides to make
some one pay for rudeness.
Fairchild's hand was still extended.
Again Anita Richmond glanced toward