The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1931-03-13
CHAPTER vi
Stealing an Idea

Martin had got one thing out Of
his otherwise barren encounter with
Rhoda that morning, and this was his
days story for the paper. AT least
he wouldn't have got it If he hadn't
been standing at the curb to see the
Limousine that Babe and Rhoda ar
rived In drive up. The license plate on
that car caught his eye and fixed itself
in his mind by virtue of small oddly
that he noticed about it. It was
four number arrangement Of mines and
Fights which would make just as good
sense upside down as right side up,
only 1t would make different sense.
Probably it was his exasperated de-
termination to dismiss Rhoda and her
wrong-headedness and her red hair
completely from his mind that caused
this notion Of an inverted license plate
to fructify swiftly into the amusing
sort of tale of misadventure that he
specialized in. It was what the editor
liked, and the fact that he made it
up out OF whole cloth didn't matter
a bit.
When 1t was done, since he knew 1t
was good, he found himself in a plac-
able enough humor to turn back to the
Rhoda incident and consider dispas-
sionately what had gone wrong with it.
Under his eye, as he sat musing,
was the scrubbed sheet Of scratch
paper on which he'd drawn the license
plate right side up and upside down
in figuring out his story. 1t had been
handsome car, all right, that the
girls had had ride in, even If they
had had to sit on the little folding
seats. Rather comic, that was, now
he thought about it. And a bit queer,
too. What had the old billygoat
stopped his car for, If not for the
sensation of having a nice young thing
sitting close beside him?
He was still staring at the license
number of that car. Suddenly, under
an impulse too fanciful to bear argu-
ing about. he decided to look up the
owner. 1t wouldn't do any harm to
find out who the old bloke was.
When he found few minutes later
that the car was registered as the
property Of G. ]. Forster he felt for a
few seconds as If he must be victim
Of practical joke. What the devil!
He telephoned up to Rhoda's depart
ment to find out If or when she'd gone
out to lunch and when, If they knew,
she was expected back. When they
told him she wasn't coming back that
afternoon at all, he crammed on his
hat. squirmed into his overcoat as he
ran downstairs, and started out for
the Tip-Top inn.
Martin, considering his plan of ac-
ton on the way over, had decided to
wait in the lobby until Rhoda came
out. He hadn't yet settled down to his
wait on the sofa-he was at the cigar
stand buying some cigarettes-when a
woman came up beside him and bought
telephone slug. He'd been a reporter
long enough to repress the start her
voice gave him, though 1t was voice
he knew, and he checked his impulse
to turn and look at her, much as he'd
have liked to. He never had really
good look at her. Luckily she'd never
seen him at all, nor heard his voice.
On the strength Of that reflection he
bought telephone slug, too. went into
the next booth to hers, dropped his
nickel and called his own telephone
number, which, Of course didn't answer.
He hoped he'd be able to hear what
she said. If she'd left Rhoda in the
middle Of their lunch to come out and
telephone, it was likely to be some
thing interesting. The sort of voice
she had rasped right through the thin
partition wall of the telephone booth.
He hadn't got there in time to hear
what number she called; indeed he
was barely in time for the beginning
Of her conversation. for she'd got her
party at once. Some one, he guessed,