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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.