Newspaper Page Text
Three Men
AND
a Maid
By P. G. Wodehouse
&
Copyright by George H Doran Cos.
A MERCIFUL ESCAPE
Mrs. Horace Hignett, world
famous writer on theosophy, au
thor of “The Spreading Light,
etc., etc., arrives in New York on
.1 lecturing 'tour. Eustace, her
son, is with her. Windles, ances
tral home of the Hignetts, is his,
so her life is largely devoted to
keeping him unmarried. Enter
her nephew. Sam, son of Sir Mal
iahy Marlowe, the eminent Lon
don lawyer. It is arranged that
Sam and Eustace shall sail to
gether 'on thfe Atlantic the next
day. Enter Bream Mortimer,
American, son of a friend of- an
insufferable American named
Bennett, who has been pestering
Mrs, Hignett to lease Windles.
Bream informs her that Wil
helmina Bennett is .waiting for
Eustace at the Little Church
Round the Corner. Bream him
self is in love with Wilhelmina.
Mrs. Hignett marches off to Eus
tace's room. The scene shifts to
the Atlantic at her pier. Sam,
heading for the gangplank meets
a glorious, red-headed girl, with
whom he instantly falls in love,
though her dog bites him. Eus
tace appears; ■ heart-broken. ' It
appears that his mother had
'pinched' his trousers 1 ' and de
layed . the ceremony.- whereupon
Wilhelmina had declared the wed
ding off Sam is pushed over
board. has a desperate struggle
in the water with another swim
mer and rejoins the Atlantic at
quarantine. The red-headed girl
is Wilhelmina '
She hails Sam as a hero and in
troduces Bream, Eustace, a poor
sailor, keeps to his berth. He
doesn't kn6w Billie is on board.
Sam makes warm love. He pro
poses and is accepted. Sam plans
to sing in the ship's concert and
forces Eustace to promise to be
bis accompanist. Sam blacks up
and ,s made ridiculous. Eustace
is consoled by Jane Hubbard,
friend of Billie. Sam and Billie
quarrel. <
CHAPTER V!l—Continued.
—9—
“Well, what can you do when your
pianist runs out on you?"
"You could lmve done something. 1
ant forgive u man for looking ridicu
lous. Oh, what, what,” she cried, “in
duced you to try to give an imitation
of licit Williams?”
Sam started, stung to the quick.
“It wasn’t Bert Williams. It was
Frank Tinney!"
“Well, how was 1 to know?”
“1 did my best,” said Sam sullenly.
“That is the awful thought.”
“I did it for your sake.”
I know. It gives me a horrible
'■'nse of guilt.” She shuddered again.
Then suddenly, with the nervous
quickness of a woman unstrung,
dirust a small black golliwog into his
hand.
“Take it!"
“What’s this?”
You bought it for me yesterday at
die barbers shop. It is the only pres
'■uf that you have given mo. Take it
hack."
1 don’t want it. I shouldn't know
whit to do with it.”
ou must take it,” she said in a
Sow voice. “It is a symbol.”
‘A what?"
A symbol of our broken love.”
I don't see how you make that out.
d’s a golliwog.”
I can never marry you now.”
"hat! Good heavens! Don’t be
absurd.”
“I can't.”
Oh, go on, have a dash at It,” he
encouragingly, though his heart
"'•is sinking.
■■die shook her head.
No, I couldn’t.”
Alb. hang it all!”
I couldn't. I’m a strange girl . .
“You’re a darned silly girl . .
1 don’t see what right you have to
*’.v that," she flared.
1 f3ou t se e what right you have to
JOu can ’t marry me and try to
' me up with golliwogs,” he retort
r’- with equal heat.
•ci, can't you understand?”
N 'o, I’m dashed if I can.”
s, e looked at him despondently.
" ben I said I would marry you,
. \ere a hero to me. You stood to
• ' lOr ever J’thing that was noble and
' u and wonderful. ! had only to
"■ my eyes to conjure up the picture
1 0,1 as J’ou dived off the rail that
c*' ning. Now"—her voice trembled —
'■ -'but my eyes now—l can only see
- t en with a hideous black face mak-
T nself the laughing stock of the
ship. How can I marry you, hauutetl
by, that picture?”
“But, good heavens, you talk as If I
mr.de a habit of blacking up! You
talk ns if you expected ine to come to
the altar smothered in burnt cork.”
“1 shall always think of you as 1 saw
you tonight.”
She looked at him sadly. “There’s
a bit of black still on your left ear.”
He tried to take her hand. But she
drew it away. He fell back as If stnick.
“So this is the end,” he muttered.
“Yes. It’s partly on your ear and
partly on your cheek.”
“So this is the end,” lie repeated.
“You had better go below and ask
your steward to give you some more
butter.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Well, I might have expected it. I
might have known what would happen!
Eustace warned me. Eustace was
right. He knows women—as Id
now. Women ! What mighty ills have
not been done by women? Who wns’t
betrayed the what’s-its-name? A wom
an ! Who lost .. . lost . . . lost . .
who—er—and so on? A woman . . .
So all is over! There Is nothing to be
said but good-by?”
“No.”
“Good-by, then, Miss Bennett!”
“Good-by,” said Billie sadly. “I —I’m
sorry."
“Don’t mention it!”
“You do understand, don’t you?”
“You have made everything perfect
ly clear."
• “I hope you won’t be un
happy.”
“Unhappy!” Sam produced a stran
gled noise from his larynx, like the
cry of a shrimp in palm “Unhappy!
Pin not'unhappy! Whatever gave you
that idea? I'm smiling! I'm laughing!
I feel I’ve hail a merciful escape.”
“It's.very unkind’and'rude of you to
say that.” '
“It reminds me of a moving picture I
saw in New York. It was called,
‘Saved From the Scaffold.’ ”
“Oh!”
“I’m not unhappy. . What have I got
to be unhappy' about? What on earth
does any man want to get married for?
I don’t . . . Give me my gay bachelor
life! My uncle Charlie used to say,
‘lt’s better luck to get married than it
is to lie kicked in the head by a mule.’
But lie was an optimist. Good-night,
Miss Bennett. And good-by—forever.”
He turned on Ills heel and strode
across the deck. From a white heaven
the moon still shone benignantly down,
mocking him. He had spoken bravely;
the most captious critic could not but
have admitted that he had made a good
exit. But already his heart was aching.
As lie drew near to his stateroom, he
was amazed and disgusted to hear a
high tenor voice raised in song pro
ceeding from behind the closed door.
I fee-er naw faw in shee-tntng arr-mor,
Though his lance be sliarrrp and-er
keen;
But I fee-er. I fee-er the glah-mor
Therough thy der-rooping lashes seen:
I fee-er, I fee-er the glah-mor . . .
Sam flung open the door wrathfully.
That Eustace Hignett should be alive
was bad—lie had pictured him hurling
himself overboard and bobbing about,
a pleasing sight, in the wake of the
vessel; that he should be singing was
an outrage. Remorse, Sam thought,
should have stricken Eustace Hignett
dumb. Instead of which, here he was
comporting himself like a blasted lin
net. It was all wrong. The man could
have no conscience whatever.
“Well,” he said, sternly, "so there
you are J”
Eustace Hignett looked up brightly,
even beamingly. In the brief Interval
which had elapsed since Sam had seen
him last an extraordinary transforma
tion had taken place in this young man.
His wan look had disappeared. Ills
eyes were bright. His face wore that
beastly self-satisfied smirk which you
see in pictures advertising certain
makes of fine-mesh underwear. If
Eustace Hignett had been a full-page
drawing in a magazine with ‘My dear
fellow, I always wear Slgsbee’s Super
fine Featherweight!” printed under
neath him, he could not have looked
more pleased with himself.
“Hullo!” he said. “I was wondering
where you had got to.”
“Never mind,” said Sam coldly,
“where I had got to! Where did you
get to, and why? You poor, miserable
worm,” he avent on in a hurst of gen
erous Indignation, ‘'what have you to
say for yourself? What do you mean
by dashing away like that and killing
my little entertainment?”
"Awfully sorry, old man. 1 hadn’t
foreseen the cigar. I was bearing up
tolerably well til! I began to sniff the
smoke. Then everything seemed to go
black—l don’t menu you, of course.
Y’ou were black already—and I got the
feeling that I simply must get on deck
and drown myself.”
“Well, why didn’t you?” demanded
Sam, with a strong sense of injury. “I
might have forgiven you then. But to
come down here and find you singing
A soft light came into Eustace liig
nett’s eyes.
"1 want to tell you all about that,” he
said. “It’s the most astonishing story.
A miracle, you might almost cail it.
Makes you believe in Fate and all that
sort of thing. A week ago I was on the
Subway In New York . .
THE OANIELSVtLLE MONITOR, OANIELSVILLE, GEORGIA.
‘‘My dear chap,-what,ls the matter?”
“What is the matter? Ha 1"
“Something is the matter,” persisted
Eustace Hignett. “I can tell it by your
manner. 'Something lias happened to
disturb rind upset you. I know you so
well that I can pierce the mask. What
is it? Tell me.”
“Ha, ha!"
“You surely can’t still be brooding
on that concert business? Why, that’s,
all over. I take It that after my depar
ture you made the most colossal ass of
yourself, but why let that worry you?
These things cannot affect one perma
nently.”
“Can’t they? Let me tell you that ns
a result of thnt concert my engagement
is broken off.”
"Not really? How splendid! Accept
my congratulations! This Is the finest
thing that could possibly have hap
pened. These are not idle words. As
one who has been engaged to the girl
himself, I speak feelingly. You are well
out of it, Sam."
"My heart is broken,” he said with
dignity.
“That feeling will pass, giving way
to one of devout thankfulness. I know!
I’ve been there. After all. . . . Wll
heltnina Bennett . . . what is she? A
rag and a bone and a hank of hair.”
“She is nothing of the kind,” said
Sam, revolted.
“Pardon me,” said Eustace firmly, “I
speak as an expert. I know her and I
repeat, she Is a rag and a bone and a
hank of hair!”
“She is the only girl In the world,
and owing to your Idiotic behavior I
have lost her.” • -
“You speak of the only girl In the
world,” said Eustace blithely. “If, you
want to hear about the only girl in the
\vorld, I will tell you. A week ago I
was in. (he Subway in New York. . . .”
“I’m going to bed," said Sam brusque
ly. . i. ,
“All right. I’ll tell you while you’re,
undressing."
“I don’t want to listen.”
“A week ago,” said Eustace Hignett,
“I will ask you to picture me seated,
after ,some difficulty, in a -1 New York
subway ; I got into conversation With a
girl with an elephant gun.”
Sain revised his private comminution
service in order to include the elephant
gun.
"She was my soul-mate,” proceeded
Eustace with quiet determination. “I
didn’t kngw it; at the time, hut she was.
She had grave brown eyes, a wonderful
personality, and this elephant gun. Site
was bringing the gun away from the
downtown place where she had .taken It
to be mended.”
“Did she shoot you with It?"
“Shoot me? What do you mean?
Why. iio!”.
“The girl must have been a fool 1”
said Sam bitterly. “The chance of a
lifetime and she missed it. Where are
my pajamas?”
“I Haven’t seen your pajamas. She
talked to me about this elephant gun,
and explained its mechanism. You can
Imagine how she soothed my aching
heart. My heart, If you recollect, was
aching at that moment —quite unneces
sarily if I had only known—beeuuse it
was onry a couple of days since my en
gagement to Wllhelmina Bennett had
been broken off. Well, we parted ah
Sixty-sixth street and, strange as it
may seem, I forgot all about her.”
“Do it again!”
“Tell it again?”
“Good heavens, no! Forget all about
her again."
“Nothing,” said Eustace Hignett
gravely, “could make me do that. Our
souls have blended. Our beings have
been called to one another from their
deepest depths, saying. . . . There are
your pajamas, over In the corner. . .
saying, ‘Y’ou are mine!’ How could 1
forget her after that? Well, as I was
saying, we parted. IJttle did I know
that she was sailing on this very boat!
But just now she came to me as I
writhed on deck. . . .”
“Did you writhe?” asked Sam with a
flicker of moody Interest.
“I certainly did."
“That’s good!”
“But not for long.”
“That’s bad."
“She came to me and healed me.
Sam, that girl Is an angel."
“Switch off the light when you’ve fin
ished.”
“She seemed to understand without
a word how I was feeling. There are
some situations which do not need
words. She went away and returned
with a mixture of some kind In a glass.
"I don’t know what it was. It had
Worcester sauce in It. She put It to
my lips. She made me drink It She
said it was what her father always
used in Africa for huM-calves with the
staggers. Well, believe me or believe
me not. . . . Are you asleep?"
“Y'es.”
“Believe me or believe me not. In
under two minutes I was not merely
freed from the nausea caused by your
cigar; I was smoking, myself! I was
walking the deck with her without the
slightest qualm. I was even able to look
over the side from time to time and
comment on the beauty of the moon on
the water.... I have said some mordant
i tilings about women since 1 carne on
! hoard this ooat. I withdraw them un
reservedly. They still apply to girls
like Wilhelmlna Bennett, but I have
! ceased to include the whole sex in my
remarks. ' Jane Hubbard has restored
my faith In woman. Sum I Sami”
“What?"
“I said that Jane Hubbard had re
stored my faith in woman.”
“Oh, nil right."
Eustace Hignett finished undressing
and got into bed. Wftli a soft smile on
liLs face he switched off the light. There
was a long silence, broken only by the
distant purring of engines. At about
tWelverthfrty a voice came from the
lower berth.
“Sam!”
“What Is It now?”
“There Is a sweet womanly strength
about her, Sam. She was telling me she
once killed a panther with a liat-pin.”
Sam groaned and tossed on bis mat
tress.
Silence fell again.
“At least I think it was a panther,"
said Eustace Hignett, at a qunrter past
one. “Either a panther or a puma.”
CHAPTER VIII
A week after the liner Atlantic bad
docked at Southampton, Sam Murlowe
might have been observed —and was ob
served by various of the residents —sit-
ting on a bench on the esplanade of
that repellent watering-place, Bingley
on-the-Sea, in Sussex. All watering
places on the south coast of England
are blots on tlie landscape, but, though
I am aware that by saying It I shall
offend the civic pride of some of the
others, none are so peculiarly foul as
Bingley-on-the-Sea. The asphalt on
the Bingley esplanade Is several de
grees more depressing than the asphalt
on other esplanades. The Swiss wait
ers at the Hotel Magnificent, where
Sam was stopping, are in n class of
bungling incompetence by themkelves.
the envy and despair of all the other
Swiss waiters at (ill the other Hotels
Magnificent along the coast. For
dreariness of aspect Bing!ey-on-the-Sen
stands alone. The very waves thnt
break on the shingle seem to creep up
the beach reluctantly, as if it revolted
them to come to such a place.
Why, then, was Sam Marlowe visiting
this ozone-swept Gehenna? Why, with
all the rest of England at his disposal,
had lie chosen to spend n week at
breezy, blighted Bingley?
Simply because he had been disap
pointed in love. lie had sought relief
by slinking off alone to the most be
nighted spot lie knew, in the same
spirit as other men In similar circum
stances had gone off to the Rockies to
shoot grizzly bears.
To a certain extent the experiment
had proved successful. If the Hotel
Magnificent had not cured his agony,
the service and the cooking there had
at least done much to take Ills mind off
It. His heart still ached, but he felt
equal to going to London -and seeing
Ills father, which, of course, he ought
to have done immediately upon his ar
rival in England.
He rose ffom his bench and, going
back to the hotel to Inquire about
trains, observed a familiar figure in the
lobby. Eustace Hignett was leaning
over the counter, in conversation with
the desk-clerk.
“Hullo, Eustace!" said Sam.
“Hullo, Sam!” said Eustace.
“What are you doing here?” asked
Eustace.
“What are you doing here?” asked
Sam.
“I came to see you," said Eustace,
leading his cousin out of the lobby and
onto the bleak esplanade. A fine rain
hud begun to fall, and Bingley looked,
If possible, worse than ever. “I asked
for you at your club, and they told tne
you had come down here.”
“Wlint did you want to see me
about ?"
“The fact is, old man, I’m In a bit of
a hole.”
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s a rather long story," said Eus
tace depreeutingly.
“I don’t know where to begin.”
“Have a dash at starting at the be
ginning.”
Eustace stared gloomily at a strand
ed ernb on the bench below. The crab
stared gloomily back.
“Well, you remember my telling you
about the girl I met on the boat?”
“Jane Something?”
“Jane Hubbard,” said Eustace rev
erently. “Sam, I love that girl.”
“I know. You told me.”
“But I didn’t tell her. I tried hi
muster up the nerve, hut we got to
Southamplon without my having
clicked. What n dashed difficult thing
a proposal is to bring off. Isn’t It? I
didn’t bring it off, and It bpgnn to look
to me as though I was In the soup.
And then she told me something which
gave me an idea. She said the Ben
netts had Invited her to stay with
them in the country when she got to
England. Old Mr. Bennett and his
pal Mortimer, Bream’s father, were
trying to get a house somewhere which
they could share. Only so far they
hadn’t managed to find the house they
wanted. When I heard thnt, I said,
‘Ha!”’
“To Bream Mortimer. Billie
got engaged to him yesterday."
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Give a woman plenty of rope and
she will hang washing on it
RCsOOTL-.
pQ.apyi
Automobile Highway Is
Most Unusual in World
Monroe county, of which Key West,
Fla., is the principal center of popu
lation has just voted, a 5300.000 bond
issue for the construction of what will
he perhaps the most unusual automo
bile highway in the world. The
money will be spent for roads and
bridges from Key West to the main
land.
The proposition had received the en
thusiastic moral backing of the At
lantic Coast Highway association,
which is urging the completion of a
continuous route between Muine and
Key West and skirting the Atlantic for
the greater part of the way.
The new auto road when completed
will be tiie longest and probably the
only extensive automobile road over
tiie sea in the world. At times the
motorist will be almost ! f not actually
out of sight of land.
He will have the Gulf of Mexico on
tiie one hand and the Atlantic ocean
on the other. Tiie scenery is extreme
ly picturesque. The keys have been
compared- to the South Sea islands.
They are masses of bright green ver
dure and contain many coconut
groves. The shoals along the route
reflect every color of tiie rainbow
from the masses of tiie pink-qnd-white
coral, tiie white marl and the brown
and green seaweed on the bottom.
There are immense numbers of sea
birds—brown pelicans, herons, frigate
birds and others, and many kinds of
fish.
The gap between the mainland and
Key West was bridged by Henry M.
Flagler’s Florida Eust Conht railroad
in 1912. Tiie distance between Home
stead, in southern Florida (at which
the railroad oversea extension begins)
and Key West is 128 miles. Of this
distance the railroad runs over deep
water for 18 miles, the concrete piers
in several places rising out of water
80 feet deep, though tiie average
depth crossed by the viaducts and
steel trestles is considerably less.
A large part of the distances be
tween tiie various keys or islands that
form a chain between Key West and
the mainland of Florida consist of
shoals which have been filled in with
embunknients ulong the railroad right
of way. Tiie shoals in the case of tiie
unto route would probably be crossed
by bridges, although tiie automobile
road, not obliged to take so direct a
route as the railroad, can use the keys
to a greater extent.
Part of the route will lie in Dade
county, of which Miami is the prin
cipal center of population. The Flor
ida Mainlund-Key West auto road
will form an extension of tiie Dixie
highway leading from Wuycross, Gu„
down the east coast of Florida,
through Jacksonville, St. Augustine,
Ormond, West I’alrn Beach und Miami
to Royal Palm State park, a distance
of nl9 tnlles. With completion through
to Key West, tiie distance from Way
cross to Key West will be 037 miles,
or 1,723 miles by auto road from New
York to Key West.
Stripe Down Center to
Make Paved Road Safer
If the road authorities would have
a four-inch stripe painted down the
center of our concrete pavements It
would be of great help to autolsts and
probably prevent some accidents. A
man driving on a twenty-foot puve
ment with nothing on his left to guide
by, is always trying to see both
sides of the road at once. He wants
to keep to the right as far as possible
and yet watch the other fellow and
see how far the approaching car will
miss him. He can’t do both at the
same time successfully.
If he doesn’t watch the approach
ing car a reckless driver may hit hltu.
If lie does watch him he may be forced
off the pavement, with no chance to
prove who was in the wrong. VVitli
a stripe down the center of the pav
ing there is a much better chance of
tracking straight and avoiding col
lisions or swerving off the road to
keep from getting hit.—R. A. Bradley,
Mechanical Engineering department,
Colorado Agricultural college.
Completion of Highway
Celebrated in Virginia
The completion of ihe Virginia
state highway between Orange Hiid
Madison, known as Route No. 10 in
the state highway system, was cele
brated by the people of Orange and
Madison counties. Members of the
Omnge county chamber of commerce
and a committee representing Madi
son county arranged an old-time bus
ket picnic and barbecue on the farm
of Mrs. Annie E. Carpenter, near Mad
ison. Music was furnished by a brass
band from Washington, and short ad
dresses were made by residents at
Orange and Madison counties.