Evening star., 1935-07-09

- lowing evening, Bud and Puny
picking him UP on their way
l. to the park.
In the dressing room at the
Trocadero the returned one was eftu-
eively greeted by his fellow bandsmen
and subjected to all the usual and
some of the unusual in the way OF
witticisms that form the gantlet Of
every marital tyro, just honeymooned.
They crowded around him, d circle of
grinning faces, inquired as to the
health of the little woman" and
loudly declared their intention to call
the very first time they were sure that
she was alone, explaining that they
were rendered shy, i'll at ease, and
were never at their best in the pres
ence of that ogre, husband.
Paul laughed good-humoredly. Il
see where I get myself a one-man
police kiyoodle," he threatened.
A bottle was produced and the we'll
being of the newlyweds pledged. Paul
drained the glass and was mildly sur
prised at the pleasant tingle it sent
through him. With the exception
of one slightly damp, though thor
oughly conventional evening, with no
tel friends in Galveston, he had not
taken a drink since his marriage.
Flash of the old FORM" commented
Puny, who had watched him criti-
ca!ly. Have another? Or-should
you?" He squinted at Paul suggest
lively, his blunt fingers grasping a
replica of the frst bottle which he
waved gently back and forth.
Paul, the taste lingering egreeably
on his palate, held out his hand with
out hesitation. The liquor churned
in the neck of the bottle as he sWal-
lowed. When he finally set it down
the net fluid content had dwindled
appreciably. He sighed, a sigh OF
gusto.
Slick" he opined.
"Yeh," agreed Puny, loftily. 1--WE
like it."
The bottle was passing from hand
to hand when Babe Bunton appeared,
unannounced. He surveyed the room,
coldly.
Looks like a stage setting for Ten
Nights in Bar Room" he remarked.
Forgive me for mentioning it, but
have just eight -thirty-five. Further
more, the sign says Babe Bunton-
and his band. Scram!"
There was a rush for the stairs. Paul
touched the leader on the shoulder.
My fault, Babe" he said 'Tfi.
guys were delayed through slippin' me
the glad welcome home"
Bunton turned. "Oh, hello. Paul,
he exclaimed. Glad to see you back
The band is going good. Swell bunch
of boys. And, by the way, Paul. he
added, want you and the bride for
dinner tomorrow evening. The wife Is
anxious to meet her"
They started the evenings grind
It seemed good, reflected Paul, to be
back in the line behind the music
racks, the immaculate figure Of Bun
ton with his suave, set smile, standing
in front the band working elastic
ally under his baton, faces intent
Bud, at his side frovnlng at his music
bantering laboring neighbors during
his rests, winking at f1imsily clad girls
that danced by. Behind, Puny. cheeks
distended, methodically mouthlng q
huge bass. occasionally jumping up
to maui the strings of a monumental
fiddle with seeming disregard for thell
tensile strength. Whitley, in his maze
of drums. tom-toms, tympani, cymbals
and percussioniStic WhatnotS his head
bobbing rhythmically, vacant stare
In his eyes; bearing down joyously on
the "ncks."
Pauls temperance was soon dis
covered by his adherents among the
fair sex, who paused in front Of the
orchestra and, swaying back and forth
In almost complete disengagement
from their lucklesS partners, sought
to engage him In conversation. When
he, smiling lmpartially, shook his
lead in indication of his inability to
hear, they invariably formed their
words upon red mouths, repeatedly
with which dexterous manipulation OF
penciled eyebrow.
Just after the closing number,
shortly past midnight, Paul was ac-
costed by Homer st. George, arranger
and accordionist betimes, a short,
swarthy man, whose work with the
orchestra was more the result OF an
obsession for dance music than a
means of livelihood. ST. George had
lived in Kansas City all his life, al
though his closely-clipped mustache
and liquid black eyes gave him de-
cided continental aspect. He owned
q pretentious English house, beauti-
fully Handicapped. on Gillian road
where he was won't to entertain Law
ishly at all hours His wife had been
in former years, a chorus girl in bur
lesque, whom he had met while play
ing in a theater pit. She had suose-
cuently inherited sizable fortune
from the estate Of an uncle. They
were now in their middle thtrties
childless, and were never happier than
when their home was filled with
noisy, pleasure seeking guests in vari-
Gus stages Of inebriety.
Having a little party for you and
the new wife this morning, Paul" ne
said. Just bit of gathering to. af
commemorate the occasion. Nothing
to prevent your coming, Is there?"
Paul considered swiftly. He Was
conscious of a vague impulse to make
REI IEVE