Browning chief. [volume] (Browning, Mont.) 1941-1953, 1943-09-24

he was inactive, standing IDLY by,
apparently not greatly moved by the
indignity that had been done him.
The man was smoking a frayed CT
gar. He was hatless, dressed in an
incredible sports coat, brown Stacks
and a pink and white check shirt
that would have affronted the esthet-
ic sense of moron.
II won't stand for i'll" beloved
the comedian. 81 won't! Give me a
brick, somebody. Where's brick?"
I don't know where the brick came
from. suspected, but with no rea-
son whatever, that the man with the
frayed cigar was guilty.
"You know" laughed Reed Bar
ton, as we rolled down town to the
union station, 81 wish I could stay
and see how this comes OUT
"I'll tell you how it comes out
when I see you at Mazatlan," I
said. 1--WE arranged to go with
Dwight and Margaret on their
cruise. Leaving in a week or So"
"There is more than a fine talent
here" said Dwight, his voice having
a judicial sound in the quiet of the
ships lounge on the Orizaba. The
thin smoke of his cigarette ascend
ed through the lighted area made by
the green-shaded light. He rustled
the papers on the table, looking al
first one reproduction of Elsa's carl
catures and then at another. There
was full page spread of Elsa's
caricatures in the rotogravure Sec
ton, besides others in the news Sec
ton. Elsa had made a hit; she
was being hailed as find.
"Oh, hello, Chesebro. Come int"
Dwight, looking past me into the
passageway beyond the open door Of
the lounge, suddenly called out.
turned to behold Jimmy the Cheese
on the threshold. We shook hands
all around, and Dwight waved CHEESE.
bro to a chair. ave were just talk
| ing about Elsa" he explained when
we had settled. "About her mugs,
as she calls them"
A voice broke in upon US as we
sat there in the lounge, a strange
voice, Slightly blurred in it's tone
and smacking of New York in its
infections.
IF you're speaking of Elsa,
brought her out. Just now"
eve were, yes" Dwight rose
questioningly to his feet and made
as if to move toward the doorway
whence came the voice.
Don't bother to get up" said the
voice heartily. ELSA and I just got
here few minutes ago. The stew
ard helped us on board, and l saw
you fellows in here so I came on in"
That's quite right" Dwight as
sured the man. "I'm glad you did.
My names Nichols"
I "Glad to meet you, Nichols. My
names Rumble. George Rumble"
"This is Mr.. Chesebro, and Mr..
Madison"
"Glad to meet you both," said
Mr.. Rumble, shaking hands swiftly
with Chesebro and then with me.
Don't believe I've ever heard of
you two before" He helped him
self unasked to cigarettes and sat
down on the corner of the table.
Mice little boat you've got here,
Nichols. Looks like swell traveller
of the ocean blue"
eyes, thank you. I'm glad you
could come down and be with us
tonight"
Thanks. I always get kick out
of going-away parties - especially
when it's on a boat Understand
you're starting to Mexico tonight"
Eyes. We're sailing about mid
night"
At the moment l was speeches..
l observed Dwight endeavoring to
adjust the newcomer to his sur
roundings and us to him. 1t was
plain that he was totally unexpect-
ed. His statement, however, that
he had come with Elsa made him
authentic. But, as l say, I was de-
void of speech. For I recognized
the man. He was minus the frayed
cigar he'd had when he so calmly
looked on at the frantic actions of
the outraged comedian. His black
curly hair was oiled down to his
head, and he was now smoking one
of Dwight's cigarettes. Otherwise
he was the same.
''How did you come down."
Dwight was asking.
"Come DOWN." repeated Rumble,
dislodging fragment of tobacco
from his tongue with a sharp noise
of his lips. 1--WE came in Elsa's car.
She's got good car now, and
chauffeur. I helped her pick out
the car. And know the chauffeur's
okeh. He's a nice boy. Cousin of a
friend of mine. I got him the job"
That's interesting" said Dwight.
Chesebro had shrunk into himself
at the advent of Mr.. Rumble; he sat
like a huge, reddish-brown, silent,
malignant oyster. I'm sure that if
it we're the gentlemanly thing to do
he would have bitten Mr.. Rumble.
whats your line, Chesebro?" de-
manded Mr.. Rumble, turning upon
Jimmy the Cheese. For a moment
there was no reply. could fancy he