The Key West citizen. [volume] (Key West, Fla.) 1879-current, 1936-08-22

Sary. But oOn see why lt SHOuIu
be. Now that you've decided on it,
haven't you got" he would have
said "guts," and so would she, If he
hadn't been looking at her like that
and if he hadn't been a pupil-"will
power enough to stay with it?"
II would il they were all like you,
but you're the only teacher / ever
saw that I respected. They make
me sick as hell" He caught him.
self and flushed crimson. Excuse
me, Miss Torrance; that's from be-
ing bum"
She laughed. ooh, I've heard Of it
before" And used it, she thought,
with monotonous regularity. Mike
Hannigan might take lot of living
up to.
He got up, and she realized in
establishment that he was holding
out his hand. She gave him her own,
and his grip was paralyzing.
you're aces, Miss Torrance. I
sure do thank YOU"
He strobe out of the room. Carol
stared at his splendid back and
rubbed her fingers and tried to think
what she would say to the class in
European History. Thank heaven
Mike Hannigan wouldn't be in that!
THE week wore on. Glasses
l. stopped being entities and be-
came groups Of individuals; some
intelligent, some average, Q few
hopelessly dull - jewellers in Mo-
ronia.' -
For the most part her work ran
smoothly. Later, she knew, the nov
city Of her presence and her method
would wear off and rebellion would
probably lift its head. But there was
no use in anticipating the struggle.
Even her qualms about the foot
ball squad had not thus far mate
rallied. To her establishment the
gorilla proved to have exquisite
manners, that sat upon him as oddly
as a curled and scented wig. She
wondered at the Difference Of these
incongruous beings who were nei-
Their men nor children. and stumbled
quite by accident on one explana-
ton. Mike, she heard by grapevine
route. had announced in vivid and
salty language what he would do
to the first so-and-so who started
anything in her classes or out
Mike himself dropped in almost
daily. and greeted her with warm
Irish grin that disconnected her
more than she cared to admit.
"How'm I doin'?"
Beautifully, and you know it."
The astonishing part was that It
was true. He stalked learning slow
ly and inexorably; sank his teeth
into it and held on grimly. Probably
his interest would wane, but now he
was travelling a route he had never
travelled before, and finding the
voyage good.
Only one thing worried her; that
the girls had discovered him. They
fluttered over him, and borrowed
his pencils. and wanted to be shown
where the lesson ended: anything
would do as an excuse. Mike an
swered them patie y, without
even looking at them, entirely un-
aware that the Interruptions were
pretexts.
There were letters during the
week from Milly and Jill and Pat;
and one stilted, yearning note from
Don, who was incapable of putting
himself on paper. Reading a letter
from Don made him more unreal
and distant than ever.
Milly's letter was a sort Of daily
paper. So-and-so was in Atlanta;
she had played bridge with so-and-
so. and held terrible hands. Carols
room was rented to Miss Andrews,
who taught fifth grade. -.
Jill was entirely matter-of-fact.
The Andrews gal wasn't bad, and
nine times twenty was a hundred
and eighty, which would go into the
summer hell-raisin' fund. Don Rich
ards had drifted in Sunday night,
and the four Of them had sat on
the terrace and counted fourteen
shooting stars. =.
Pats letter was equally charac.
teristic. Don Richards had returned
on Sunday like ghost to the scene
Of its demise. Business was looking
up. He was trying to keep his word
about the writing. "Tm doing a
series of sketches about local char
acters and folklore: not good yet,
of course, but good practice. If I
get any amount Of stuff done l may
send it down for you t. pass on"
She wrote Jill and Milly a joint
letter, but Pat deserved a separate
one, she felt, for the effort he was
making. "Send the sketches to me
anyhow" she ordered, "and If any
Of them have possibilities I'll act as
agent until can talk real one into
taking you on" She knew from
other days that Pat wasn't equal to
the soul-searing experience OF see.
ing his manuscripts come back.
And suddenly it was Friday. and
one of the thirty-six weeks had slid,
unwept, into oblivion.
copyright, 1886, By Marion Sinss)
A "tall. dark man" comes Into
r