Newspaper Page Text
Three Men
AND
a Maid
By P. G. Wodehouse
&
Copyright by George H. Doran Cos.
CHAPTER XVl—Continued.
— 18 —
“There!” said Mr. Bennett. "You
hear? And when Henry Mortimer says
ft thing, it’s so. There’s nobody’s word
I’d take before Henry Mortimer’s.”
‘‘When Uufus Bennett makes an as
sertion,” said Mr. Mortimer, highly flat
tered by these kind words, “you can
bank on it, Rufus Bennett’s word is his
bond. Rufus Bennett is a whte man!’’
The two old friends, clasped hands
with a good deal of feeling.
“I am not disputing Mr. Bennett’s
claim to belong to the Caucasian race,”
id Sirs. Hignett. “I merely maintain
that this house is . .
“Yes, yes, yes, yes!” interrupted
lane. “You can thrash all that out
tome other time. The point Is, if this
fellow is your newliew, I don’t see what
we can do. We’ll have to let him go.”
“I came to this house,” said Sam,
raising his vizor to facilitate speech,
“to make a socal call . . .”
“At this hour of the night!” snapped
Mrs. fiignett. “You always- were an
inconsiderate boy, Samuel.”
“I came to inquire after poor Eus
tace’s ankle. I’ve only just heard that
the poor chap was ill.”
“He’s getting along quite well,” said
Jane, melting. “If I had known you
were so fond of Eustace . .
“All right, is he?" said Sam,
“Well, not quite all right, but he’s
going on very' nicely.”
“Fine!”
“Eustace and I are engaged, you
know!”
“No, really? Splendid! I can’t see
you very distinctly—how those John
nies In the old days ever contrived to
put up a scrap with things like this
on their heads beats me —but you
sound a good sort. I hope you’ll be
very happy."
“Thank you ever so much, Mr. Mar
lowe. I’m sure we shall.”
“Eustace is one of the best.”
“How nice of you to say so.”
“All this,” interrupted Mrs. Hignett,
who had been a chafing auditor of this
Interchange of courtesies, “is beside
the point. Why did you dance in the
hull, Samuel, and play the orchestrion?”
‘Yes," said Mr. Bennett, reminded of
his grievance, “waking people up."
“Scaring us all to death I” com
plained Mr. Mortimer.
“I remember you as a boy, Samuel,”
sad Mrs. Hignett, “lamentably lacking
in consideration for others and concen
trated only on your selfish pleasures.
Yon seem to have altered very little.”
Don’t ballyrag the poor man,” said
Jane Hubbard. “Be human! Lend him
n can-opener!” -
I shall do nothing of the sort,” said
Mrs. Hignett. “I never liked him and
1 c-dike him now. He has got himself
into this trouble through his own
wrong-headedness.”
"It’s not his fault his head’s the
wrong size,” said Jane.
'He must get himself out as best he
ta!l said Mrs. Hignett.
Uuy well,” said Sam, with bitter
dignity. “Then I will not trespass fur
: ’ { ' r 011 - vour hospitality, Aunt Adeline.
I have no doubt the local blacksmith
' VI : be able to get this d—d thing off
n ■ I shall go to him now. I will let
Y ; have the helmet back by parcel
j’"' 1 at tlle earliest possible opportu
ne y. Good-night !’L He walked coldly
(o the front door. “And there are peo-
I’ - he remarked sardonically, “who
s-v that blood is thicker than water!
i b hot they never had any aunts!”
Episod^vFive.
.. I:,ie > meanwhilefwtth Bream trot
"r,ilely at her heels, had reached
’ l! ' a se and started tju; car. IJke
r V' "Mch have bcfen spending a
.t-rahle time In seclirded Inaction,
■ not start readily. ,At each ap-
Plicat'on of Billie’s foot on the self
t . . !t einittecl a tinny and re-
I onl sound and thep seemed to go
t'J r '. agaln - Eventually, however,
n-mes began to revolve and the
no moved reluctantly out Into
the drive.
sn , i • ,latter y must ije run down,”
sn '<l Billie.
nil riffht ’” sa!r] Rream- ■
j east a glance of contempt at
h'.rrti-- the corner of her eyes. She
t,i * new why ghe had spoken to
f >' opt that, as all automobilists
tin- I0 ' the lm P u,se to say rude
r ° U n lottery almost ir*
- To an automobiliat th& art
Of conversation consists in rapping out
scathing remarks either about the bat
tery or the oiling system.
Billie switched on the headlights
and turned the car down the dark
drive. She was feeling thoroughly up
set. Her idealistic nature had received
a painful shock on the discovery of the
yellow streak In Bream. To call it a
yellow streak was to understate the
facts. It was a great belt of saffron
encircling bis whole soul. That she.
Wilhelmina Bennett, who had gone
through the world seeking a Galahad,
should finish her career as the wife of
a man who hid under beds simply be
| cause people shot at him with elephant
| guns was abhorrent to her. Why, Sam
| uel Marlowe would have perished rath
or than do such a thing. You might
say what you liked about Samuel Mar
lowe—and, of course, his habit of
playing practical jokes put him beyond
(he pale—but nobody could question
bis courage. Look at the way be had
dived overboard that time in the har
bor at New York! Billie found herself
thinking hard about Samuel Marlowe.
There are only a few makes of car
in which you can think hard about
anything except the actual driving
without stalling the engines, and Mr.
Bennett’s Twin-Six Complex was nU
one of them. It stopped as if It had
been waiting for the signal. The noise
of the entitle died away. The wheels
ceased to'revolve. The automobile
did everything except lie down. It was
a particularly pig-headed car and right
from the start it had been unable to
see the sense in this midnight exnedi
tion. It seemed now to have the idea
that if it just lay low and did nothing,
presently it would be taken back to its
cosy garage.
Billie trod on the self-starter. Noth
ing happened.
“You’ll have to get down and crank
her,” she said curtly.
“All right,” said Bream.
“Well, go on,” said Billie, Impa
tiently.
“Eh?”
“Get out and crank her.”
Bream emerged for an instant from
his trance.
“All right,” he said.
The art of cranking a car Is one that
is not given to all men. Some of our
greatest and wisest stand helpless be
fore the task. It is a job toward the
consummation of which a noble soul
and a fine brain help not at all. A
man piay have all the other gifts and
yet be unable to accomplish a task tne
fellow at the garage does with one
quiet quick flick of the wrist without
even bothering to remove his chewing
gum. This being so, it was not only
unkind but foolish of Billie to grow
Impatient as Bream’s repeated efforts
failed of their object. It was wrong of
her to click her tongue, and certainly
she ought not to have told Bream that
lie was not fit to churn butter. But
women are an emotional sex and must
be forgiven much in moments of men
tal stress.
“Give it a good sharp twist,” she
said.
“All right,” said Bream.
“Here, let me do it,” cried Billie.
She jumped down and snatched the
thingummy from his hand. With bent
brows and set teeth she wrenched it
round. The engine gave a faint pro
testing mutter, like a dog that has
been disturbed in its sleep, and was
still once more.
“May I help?”
It was not Bream who spoke, but a
strange voice—a sepulchral voice, the
sort of voice someone would have
used in one of Edgar Allan Poe’s cheer
ful little tales if he had been buried
alive and were speaking from the fam
ily vault. Coming suddenly out of the
night it affected Bream painfully. He
uttered a sharp exclamation and gave
a bound which, if he had been a Rus
sian dancer, would probably have
caused the management to raise ids
salary. He was. in no frame of mind
to bear up under sudden sepulchral
voices. .
iTlfie, on the other Ijand, was
pleased.-'*' 1 The high-spirited girl was
just beginning to fear that she was
unequal to the task which she had
chided Bream for being unable to per
form and this was mortifying her.
“Oh,—would you mind? Thank you
sp milch.. The self-starter" has gone
wrong.”
Into the glare of the headlights there
stepped a strange figure, strange, that
is to say, in these tame modern times.
In the Middle ages lie would have ex
cited no comment at all. Passers-by
would simply have said to themselves.
“Ah, another of those knights off after
the dragons!” and would have gone on
their way with a civil greeting. But in
the present age it is always somewhat
startling to see a helineted head pop
up in front of your automobile. At any
rate, it started Bream. I will go fur
ther. It gave Bream the shock of a life
time. He had had shocks already that
night, but none compared with tlds. Or
perhaps it was that this shock, coining
on top of those shocks, affected him
more disastrously than it would have
done if it had been the first of the
series instead of the last. One may
exprps? the thing briefly by saving
that, ns far as Bream was concerned,
Sam’s unconventional appearance put
the lid on it. He did not hesitate. He
did not pause to make comments or
ask questions. With a single catlike
THE DANIELSVILLE MONITOR, DANIELSVILLE, GEORGIA.
I screech which took years off the lives
lof the abruptly wakened birds roosting
in the neighboring trees, 'ie dashed
away towards the house and, reaching
his room, locked the door and pushed
the bed, the chest o‘ drawers, two
chairs, the towel stand and three pairs
of shoes against it. Only then did he
feel comparatively safe.
Out on the drive Billie was staring
at tlie man in nrmor who had now,
with a masterful wrench which in
formed the car right away that he
would stand no nonsense, set the eu
gine going ngain.
"by why," she stammered, “why
are you wearing that thing on your
head ?”
“Because I can’t get It off.”
Hollow as the voice was, Billie rec
ognized it.
‘S Mr. Marlowe I” she exclaimed.
“Get in,” said Sam. lie had seated
himself at the steering wheel. “Where
can I take you?”
“Go away!” said Billie.
“Get in!”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I want to talk to you. Get in!”
“I won’t."
Sam bent over the side of the car,
put his hands under her arms, lifted
her like a kitten and deposited her on
the sent beside him. Then, throwing
in the clutch, he drove at an ever-in
creasing speed down the drive find out
into the silent road. Strange creatures
of the night came and went in the
golden glow of the headlights.
Episode Six.
“Put me down*’ said Billie.
“You’d get hurt if I did, traveling at
this pace."
“What are yoy going to do?’
“Drive about | till you promise to
marry me.” . <
“You’ll have ftf drive a long time.”
“Bight ho!” srfld Sam.
The car took a corner and purred
down a lane. Billie reached out a
hand and grul>tyjd at the steering
wheel.
“Of course, if jfeu want to smash up
in a ditch!" saiiAim, righting the car
with a wrench.
“You’re a bnjt£|?’ said Billie.
“I’m not going talk to you.”
“All right. Liifttback and doze off.
We’ve the whola ught before us.”
“What do you cried Billie,
sitting up with 4 Jerk.
“Have you ever £ to Scotland?”
“What do jp’ou’ meiirt?”
“I thougjjf we mlgfirmush up there.
We’ve got/fo go s,om m<V ofldlh,-
never been to SrtThn'fl.”‘
Billie regarded him blankly.
“Afe you crazy?”
“I’m crazy about .you. If you knew
what I’ve gone through tonight for
your sake you’d be more sympathetic.
I love you,” said" Sum, -swerving to
avoid a rabbit. “A<nd what’s more, you
know it.”
“I’m engaged to Bream Mortimer."
“Oh, no, that’s all off,” Sam assured
her.
“It’s not!”
“Right off!” said Sam firmly. “You
could never bring yourself to marry a
man who dashed away like that and
deserted you In your hour of need.
Why, for nil he knew, I might have
tried 'o murder you. And he ran
away! No, no, we eliminate Bream
Mortimer once and for all. lie won’t
do!’’
This was so exactly what Billie was
feeling herself that she could not bring
herself to dispute it.
“Anyway, I hate you!” she said, giv
ing the conversation another turn.
“Why? In the name of goodness,
why?”
“How dared you make a fool of me
In your father’s office that morning?”
“It was inspiration. I had
to do something to make you think well
of me, and I thought it might meet the
case if I saved you from a lunatic with
a pistol. It wasn’t my fault that you
found out.”
“I shall never forgive you!”
“Well, I hope you’re fond of motor
ing,” said Sam, “because we’re going
on till you do.”
“Very well I Go on, then!”
“I intend to. Of course, It’s all right
now while It’s dark. But have you con
sidered what Is going to happen vhen
the sun gets up? We shall have a sort
of triumphal procession. How the
small boys will laugh when they see n
man In a helmet go by In a car! I
shan’t notice them myself because It’s
a little difficult to notice anything
from inside this thing, but I’m afraid it
will be rather unpleasant for you . . .
I know what we’ll do. We’ll go to
London and drive up and down Picca
dilly! That will be fun!”
There was a long silence.
“Is my helmet on straight?” salu
Sain.
Billie made no reply. She was look
ing before her down the hedge-bor
dereu road. Always a girl of sudden
impulse, she had just made a curious
discovery, to wit, that she was enjoy
in'' herself. There was something so
novel and exhilarating about this mid
night ride that imperceptibly her dis
in ay and resentment had ebbed away.
She found herstdf struggling with a de
sire to laugh.
Till now dignity and wrath combined
had kent Billie from making any In
qu'ries into a matter which had excited
in her a quite painful citrlosity. In her
I new mood she resisted the impulse nc
longer.
“Wlty hre you wearing that thing?”
“I told you. Purely and simply be
cause I can’t get it off. You don’t sup
pose I’m trying to set anew style In
gents' headwear, do you?”
“But why did you ever put It on?”
“\\eil, it was this way. After I came
out of the cupboard in the drawing
room. . .”
“Wlu.t?”
“Didn't l tell you about that? Oh.
yes, I was sitting in the cupboard in
the drawing room from .dinner-time
onwards. After that I came out and
started cannoning about among Aunt
Adeline's china, so I thought I’d better
switch the light on. Unfortunately I
switched on some sort of musical in
strument Instead. And then somebody
started shooting. So, what with one
thir.g and another, I thought it would
be best to hide somewhere. I hid In
one of the suits of armor in the hall.”
“Were you inside there all the time
we were . . .”
“Yes. I say, that was funny about
Bream, wasn’t it? Getting under this
bed, I mean.”
“Don’t let's talk about Bream.”
“That’s the right spirit I I like to see
It! All right, we won’t. Let’s get
back to the mal 1 issue.. Will you mar
ry me?”
“But why did you come to the house
at all?”
“To see you.”
“To see mo! At that time of
night?”
“Well, perhaps not actually to see
you.” Sam was a little perplexed for a
moment. Something told Idm that it
would he injudicious to reveal his true
motive and thereby risk disturbing the
harmony which he felt had begun to
exist between them. “To be near you 1
To be in the same house with you I” be
went on vehemently, feeling that he
had struck the right note. “You don’t
know the anguish 1 went through fter
I read that letter of yours. I was mad !
I was . . . well, to return to the point,
will you marry me?”
Billie sat looking straight before her.
The car, now on the main road, moved
smoothly on.
“Will you marry me?”
“Oh, don’t talk like a parrot,” cried
Billie. “It reminds me of Bream.”
“But will you?”
“Yes.” said Billie.
Sam brought the car to a standstill
with a jerk, probably very bud for the
tires..
‘‘‘tfarling!” said Sam, leaning to
wards her.
“Oh, curse this helmet!’’
“Why?"
“Well, I rather wanted to kiss you
and it hampers me.”
“Let tne try and get It off. Bend
down!”
“Ouch!’’ said Sam.
“It’s coming. There! llow helpless
men are!"
“We need n woman’s tender care,”
said Sam. depositing the helmet on the
floor of the car, and rubbing Ids smart
ing ears. “Billie!”
' “Sam!”
“You angel!”
“You’re rather a darling after all,”
said Billie. “But you want keeping In
order,” she added severely.
“You will do that when we’re mar
ried. When we’re rn t ried I” he re
peated luxuriously.
“The only trouble Is.” said Billie,
“father won’t hear >f It.”
“No, he won't. Not till It Is all over,”
said Sam.
He started (he car again.
“What are you going to do?” said
Billie. “Where are you going?”
“To London,” said Sam. “It may be
news to you, but (Ik old lawyer like
myself knows that, by going to Doctors'
Commons or the Court of Arches ■.
somewhere, or by routing the arch
bishop of Canterbury out of bed or
something, you can get a special li
cense and be married almost before
you know where you are. My scheme
—roughly —is to dig tlds special license
out of whoever keeps such things, have
a hit of breakfast, and then get mar
ried at our leisure before lunch at a
registrar's.”
“Oh, not a registrar’s 1” said Billie.
"No?”
“I should hate a registrar’s.”
“Very well, angel. Just as you say.
We’ll go to a church. There are mil
lions of churches !n London. I’ve seen
them all over the place.” He mused
for a moment. “Yes, you’re quite
right,” be said. “A church is the
thing. It’ll please Webster.”
“Webster?”
“Yes, he’s rather keen on the church
hells never having rung out so blithe a
peal before. And we must consider
Webster's feelings. After all, he
brought us together.”
“Webster? How?”
“Ob, I’ll tell you all about that some
other time,” said flam. “Just ffat flte
moment Jkjvout to sit -quiff? still and
think. iPFs you comfortable? Fine I
Then off we go.”
The birds In the trees fringing the
road stirred and twittered grumpily as
the noise of the engine disturbed their
slumbers. But, If they hud known It,
they were in luck. At any rate, the
worst had not befallen them, for Sato
’.'as too happy to sing.
itue end.]
KgttOATjp
BUIL/DING
CONCRETE“FORDS” OR
“DIPS” ON HIGHWAYS
High water conditions In various
parts of the country have resulted
often In the building of concrete
“fords" or “dips” on highways in
places where the roads are over
flowed la the high water season by the
water of a stream or seasonal freshet.
Many mistakes have been made In
the construction of these “fords," ac
cording to George E. Duren, former
state highway engineer of Texas, who
has superintended the building of
many of these crossings In his own
states. “Dips” should not he con
tracted, he contends, In places where
the funds will permit Approvement of
the highway with a hriilge or culvert,
ns a flow of water over a road is
hound to obstruct trnfll(£to some ex
tent and will therefore guild the efll-
v s , . '**'<>&
Sloping Shoulders Carry Water Grad
ually Over Road.
clency of the road below what It
would he if there were u bridge or
culvert. Only where saving of the cost
of u bridge Is necessary should
“fords" be built.
One of the great mistakes In con
structing “fords,” he says, has been
i to make their approaches too steep,
with the result that vehicles are un
able to maintain a reasonable rote of
sliced in crossing. Some of them have
been made with approaches so steep
that a speed of more than ten miles
an hour would wreck u car.
Great care should lie taken to
build these structures so that erosion
of the stream or freshet cannot wash
away the earth foundation of the
“dip.” To accomplish this, sloping
concrete shoulders are built <>n each
side of the road'ln the course of the
stream to carry the water up gradual
ly over the road as shown In the
Illustration.
In places where the flow of water
over the highway Is likely to become
so swift or heavy as to be dangerous
at any time, large signs should be
posted to warn those using the road.
Knock Misleading Signs
Found Along Many Roads
Branding unnecessary danger signs
and “stop” signals used for advertis
ing purposes along public highways us
dangerous, many automobile clubs af
filiated with (lie American Automobile
association with the co-operation of
the state highway departments arn
campaigning for their removal.
In some Eastern states, where the
traffic on main highways Is heavy, in
stances are reported where automatic
flash “stop -railroad crossing" signs
have been put up by national adver
tisers 300 feet In advance of a spur
track crossing the highway, where the
tracks are used once or twice a month,
just because the location was ideal
from an advertising standpoint. On
the same highways where these signs
were needed, they were often found
missing.
In New Jersey at a wide place In
(he road, a cut-out painted figure rep
resenting a traffic officer and sema
phore on the arms of which are paint
ed the words “stop” with'the name
i of the tea house underneath, blocks
j traffic. The figure of the traffic officer
Is so realistic under the glare of lread
; tights that motorists who are not ac
quainted with the deception will In
stinctively obey the semaphone.
The danger pf the use of warning
signs or “atop” signals on the high
ways, where they are not required
makes the motorist who has been
“fooled” by unnecessary signs care
less when he approaches a warning
signal which Is properly placed for
his protection, points out the touring
the transportation bureau of the A.
A. A. It Is the purpose of the A. A. A.
clubs to check up on the use of warn
ing signals on the highways In their
territory and take such steps a may
>e necessary to have misleading signa
•emoved.