Evening star., 1923-09-02

VIII "dHleu adventure cSuiQ now go
out and have some sport.
Client then knew that his instinct
to hate Mr.. Chandler was a just and
true emotion
X X X
THE talk of guns and kills ran
around the table until Ghent
wanted to shrek. He managed to
silence the banker at his elbow who
was telling of his great massacre of
ducks last November on the Bear
river marshes in Utah.
II find as I grow older" said Ghent,
with a world-weary air. that the
pleasure of hunting, for its own sake,
dies out 1 have come to believe that
a man has right to kill each day
only enough for that days food"
The man who had spoken Of seven
teen dozen ducks in one mornings
bag thought of eating them all within
three meals. and considered himself
snubbed as a game-hog.
Then Columbine began to talk of
books to Client. Kenneth Angus. Col
umbine's brother, few years older,
who had been wrapped in moody
silence, pricked up his ears and
joined in their conversation intelli-
gently.
Kenneth, who had been blighted in
love while at Yale. was in the habit
of wandering from one huntinglodge
to another, with only an old guide for
companion.
ipn al hi
out to a corner of the veranda to See
what she called her demi-tasse view.
He began to feel lyric and exalted.
Was 1t because a poem was coming
on-or because Columbine, in a pla-
tonic sort of way. was letting him
hold her hand?
With heavy feet that gave satisfac-
bore down along the long veranda
toward them.
Chandler had sensed foe in Ghent.
He did not rate him as rival, but
as an annoyance. So he adroitly pro-
ceeded to poison the wells of this
wayfarer.
'Ah, Mr.. Ghent,' no asked, in his
most chubby fashion, "are you getting
an inspiration for a poem from the
sunset?"
Angus, in whose code poets were
third and lamentable sex. grunted at
this, and Ghent knew that he had
been betrayed.
He became nervous and therefore
stupid. His throat became dry; he
sneezed violently and followed it with
a hacking little cough. Although he
tude, dry-climate reaction from the
respiratory tract of a lowlander.
But Mr.. Chandler seized his oppor-
tunity.
You're not catching cold, are you.
Mr.. Ghent?" he asked fondly.
Client felt himself branded as an
invalid.
bright and early the next morning
- Columbine sought out Jim Ripley.
better known as old Rip, foreman Of
the guides, to give him certain con-
fidentiaI instructions For the benefit
of the visiting fasteners Old Rip
dressed himself like the hero of a
wild west film: however. he was a
simple, gentle soul, master Of the
craft Of mountains and plains.
''Well, Miss Columbine," he said,
after she had conflded in him. "he
must be some tenderfoot. but I'll see
that. he don't come to no harm. Me
and him will just play around quiet
like"
81 don't think he is very strong.
want the other men to make fun Of
him."
'I1I give him Eagle, who's the
truest horse in the state, and il
there's any laughing to be done it
will be my own private picnic" Old
Rip promised.
So when Ghent emerged from the
Manor after breakfast he was accost-
ed by a friendly old customer who
asked If he didn't want to be intro
duced to his horse. and went down to
the stables to meet his fate. He OBJ
served that Eagle. a fiea-bitten gray
with a look of responsibility. had an
amiable eye; he listened to droll lee
ture upon the habits and character OF
this particular horse. and with an
ease that was surprising in the victim
of a hacking cough. he swung up into
the saddle.
Three days later old Rip reported:
Don't worry about that tenderfoot
of yours, Miss Columbine. I'm learn
in him fast, and he seems to like It,
The fust mornin' 1 took him out for
a five-mile walk on Eagle to break
him in gentle. We just rambled over
the sage-brush in the front yard, and
he asked a million questions. In the
afternoon 1 gave him whirl at the
trout in Willow creek. He's a rotten
fly caster--keeps swapping off the flies
and cussin' the man that invented 'em.
Says it's a fiddlin', foolish sport for
silly old prime ministers and heavy
swells from Long Island. Who wants
to keep fiippin' a snip Of feathers
around in a high wind?' he says. The
next day we did ten miles and got
some action. And yesterday We tore
off twenty and clumb some mountains.
The boys got pep. Miss Columbine,
and he's goin' to be a ridin' fool. He
fits into a horse natural-like."
Columbine began to feel reassured.
She observed approvingly that Ghent
was taking on a becoming tan instead
of the scarlet-nosed sunburn with
which Mr.. Chandler was showing the
effects Of the climate.
AS for Clients mood, it improved
every hour. Except for the fact that
he wasn't seeing enough and Mr..
Chandler was seeing too much of Col