The Bozeman courier. (Bozeman, Mont.) 1919-1954, 1927-05-20

THE STORY so FAR
Mr.. W1over is visited by his daugh-
ter, Miriam, and her small son, Frankie.
Mr.. Wilover has raised a granddaugh-
ter, Clytie, who is left to play with her
cousin, Franks, while Miriam tells her
father her troubles. She says she has
left her husband, George, and tells
that he has been very cruel to her,
exhibiting evidences Of brutal attacks
upon her which, she says, were wholly
without cause. Mr.. Wilover becomes
very indignant n has come to the
conclusion that his son-in-law is a
ruffian and scoundrel.
And ncs7 the story
Again Mr.. WiloVer struck a blow upon
the table. THE cowardl"
There wa a knock upon the door and
the white-jacketed colored man half
opened it. Mist George jes' druv up in
his auto. sub. He ask to see you. I got
him in the front 'ception room, Suh."
Mr.. Wilover had not heard him well.
II can't see anybody. Who'd you say?"
Mist George, suh-you' son-in-law.
He say he know his wife's here; but he
say he on'y want to see you, sub"
Miriam became rigid. Nobody must see
him. Have him sent out Of the house in
stantly, father"
The colored man smiled tactfully.
Mist George say he expect maybe you
say you ain goin' to see him. sub: Say
he gOtn' set there till you do, sub"
"All right" Mr.. Wilover said grimly.
"If he sits there too long I guess 1 can
get a policeman to throw him out! That1l
do. Sam"
Eyes, sub" Sam withdrew, bowling ap-
preciatively, and his employer turned to
the unhappy lady upon he couch. II
wonder if the best thing I could do
wouldn't be to go in there n kick him
out Of my myself. What I'd like
to do, I'd like to go in there and kill
him." Apparently the impulse to act
upon his own suggestion was a strong
one; at least he had taken a step toward
the DOR when his daughter sprang up
and caught him by the arm.
"No, mol" she said. you've no idea
how powerful he is when he's in these
brutal moods. You mustn't" She
paused, annoyed and puzzled by some
thing external. What is that sound?"
What sound?"
cit seems to me I've been hearing it
for quite a time" she explained. But
I've been suffering so I didn't conscious
ly notice it. It's intolerably penetrating,
and in my state of nerves I just can't
stand it. I wish you'd call Sam back and
have it stopped, 1t sounds like cats"
Mr.. Wilover was silent, to listen, and
the sound she spoke of became audible
to him; it was a tinny but convulsive
wailing. More, it was rapidly growing
louder; it was approaching.
THAT isn't cats" Mr.. Wilover Informed
his daughter. ITS Clytie."
Don't let her come in" Miriam said
sharply; BIT this was a waste Of breath
for Clytie was not in a state to be amen
able either to requests or demands, anc
she was approaching the library at a run
! She plunged into the room, half scream
ing, weeping copiously, and with clutch.
ing hands seized her grandfather about
the waist, lifting to him an implorinG
wet face.
Don't let himl Don't let him!' IN
hoarsely screamed, and, sliding down MI
(, Wilover somewhat as if he had been
column that she found herself too veal
: to climb. she crumpled, groveling, at hi
/ grandpa!"
: LET who hit you, Clytie?"
"That awful bratl That awful brat of
: Frankie!"
what in the world do you meanP" MI
Wilover naturally found his distresses be
coming somewhat complicated; and hi
I voice, a little distracted, showed that h
I. did. do you mean"
4 But here his daughter INTERVIEWED
= you mustn't speak in that way Of you
- dear little cousin, Clytie," she said. wit
some sharpness. II think you're tryin
: to blame him for some accident, prob
e "WhatP" Clytie cried, and she spran
to her feet. You just feel my head,
= she said. 81 thought first he'd broke
: wide open; but it stayed together, some
how. Feel h top Of it, grandpa" An
: as she guided his hand among the clos
curls that so charmingly wreathed he
lovely little head, Mr.. Wilover's expires
sion became n of startled commtserS
n ton.
- GOOD heavensl" he exclaimed. F
turned to his daughter. There's a bum
on her head half the size of an egg.
s. that boy did this"
n please don't intimate such a thing
- Miriam said primly. "She probably rs
into a tree and decided to blame it c
a. him; she's never been at all nice
ID frankie. Please don't encourage her
II. tell stories about him, father"
a. "'Stories'l' Clytie shouted, and in tt
ed extremity of her emotion she stamps
III her foot. SIS that bump on my head
q story? Grandpa felt it himself, didr
~ he? And if you don't like my call1l
frankie a brat Aunt Miriam, I'll &c
tainly call him wOrse'n that, becaU
IL you and grandpa don't know how he &C
so when he gets alone with me. I'd just
= soon try to be polite ga crocodile as
=. would to him, and a crocodile would
= a hundred times nicer!"
Tut, tutl" her aunt said. I'm afra
sr- you're rather spiteful, Clytie."
re "No, she isn't" her grandfather pr
tested warmly. she never is How d
ed it happen, dear?"
I've cit didn't happen" Clytie inform
y him, weeping afresh. HE just came
val and hit me-"
with his fist?"
Ills fist? You don't think he coU
-