Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1929-03-24

st say!" Old Tinker cried. Dash it
ell, aren't you going to tip him?"
you haven't tipped the waiter" said
Wilfred, making his meaning clearer.
The waiter, explained Old Tinker,
clarifying the situation Of its last trace
of ambiguity. You haven't tipped
him!"
Come on!" said Ambrose. Push out!
Push out!'
A hundred dead Wifins shrieked a
ghcstly shrek and covered their faces
with their winding sheets. A stunned
waiter clutched his napkin to his breast.
And Ambrose shot out of the door like
a conscience-stricken rabbit. In that SUI
preme moment. he even forgot that he
vas wearing a hat like concertina. so
true is it that the greater emotion swal-
lows up the less.
A heaven-sent omnibus stopped before
him. He pushed his little charges in
and, as they charged to the farther END
of the vehicle, seated himself next TO
the door, as far away from them as pos
sible. Then, removing the hat, he sat
back and closed his eyes.
Hitherto, when sitting back with
closed eyes, 1t had always been the Gus
tom of Ambrose WITHIN to give himself
UP to holy thoughts about Bobbie. But
now they refused to come Plenty OF
THOUGHTS. but not holy ones. 1t was as
though the supply had petered out.
She never had had the least intention
of coming into that bally moving-plc-
ture place Right from the start she had
planned to lure him into the thing and
then coze off and land him with these
kids.
+ y
THE omnibus rolled on. Ambrose
l. opened his eyes to note progress.
He was delighted to observe that they
were already nearing Hyde Park corner.
His martyrdom was practically over:
Only a little longer now, and he would
be able to deliver the two pestilences
r. o. B. at their dens in Eaton Square,
wash them cut Of his life forever. re-
turn to the comfort and safety OF his
cozy rooms in the Albany, and there
begin life anew.
The thought was heartening. Then
Ambrose sat up sharply. He stared.
No, his eyes had not deceived him. AT
the far end of the omnibus Trouble was
rearing its ugly head.
The first thing that attracted AM
brose's attention was the face Of man
who had come in at the last stop and
seated himself Immediately opposite
Old Tinker. 1t was an extraordinarily
solemn face, spotty in parts and bathed
in a rather remarkable crimson hush.
The ewes. which were prominent, wore
a fixed. far-away look. Ambrose had
noted them as they passed him. They
were round, CLASSY eyes. They were,
briefly. the eyes of man who has
lunched. But now into the eyes there
was creeping a look almost of anina-
ton. The flush had begun to deepen.
For some reason or other, the ma
chinery of the brain was starting to
move once more.
Ambrose watched him idly No
premonition of doom came to him. He
was simply mildly interested. And then,
little by little. there crept upon him a
faint sensation of discomfort.
The mans behavior had now begun
to be definitely peculiar. There was
only one adjective to describe his man.
ner. and that was the adjective odd
Slowly he had heaved himself up into
more rigid posture. and, with his
hands on his knees, was bending slight
~ forward He was staring fiXedly at
some object directly in front of him.
It was a white mouse. Or rather. at
present, merely the head OF white
mouse. This head, protruding from the
breast-pocket OF Old Thinkers jacket.
was moving slowly from side to side.
Then, firing of confinement. the entire
mouse left the pocket, climbed down its
proprietor's person until it reached his
knee, and having done little washing
and brushing up, twitched its whiskers
and looked across with benevolent pink
ewes at the man opposite. The latter
drew a sharp breath, swallowed, and
moved his lips for moment. Possibly
this sort of thing had happened to him
before and he knew the procedure. He
now closed his eyes, kept them closed
for perhaps half a minute, then opened
them again.
The mouse was still there.
The CLASSY eyed man. whipping oil his
hat and uttering a hoarse cry-possibly,
though the words could not be distin-
guished, that old, heart-stirring appeal