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THE LEADER TRIBUNE, FORT VALLEY, GA., AUGUST 20, 1020.
it THE flOUBlE SQUEEZE. n
—Cont’d from p ge lo.
"1 have- hut t don't abuse It. I
want to Iasi.” This had a queer mean¬
ing, tie saw loo hue. but he didn’t try
to explain.
to his surprise she said, quite ini
pilsively: ”1 do believe that’s sore.”
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Her Touch Gave Him an Odd Thrill
And for emphasis she rested her hand
for a moment on his sleeve. Her
touch gave him an odd thrill
Miss Itiley got up to go to her state
room, ami then, as if under-the spell
of Impulsiveness, added quite shyly:
"it was good of you to take my part
In the smoking room."
“You didn’t hear?" asked Shute, his
face horror-stricken.
Oh. I didn't hear verbatim what
was said about me," she explained,
her rone a little hard. “Rut I can
imagine. Men are such brutes—most
men. And ! wanted you to know that
— I liked what you did, no mallei
what others say about tt. I must go
• -
now.
She slipped away, leaving Win
happy and angry, turnabout; happy at
Jior unexpected tender of gratitude,
angry at the man who had blabbed.
Rut happiness soon took the ascend¬
ancy. In his limited experience tie
hadn’t much to compare it with, ex¬
cept breaking into the majors the
very summer Ite graduated from col¬
1 lege. This, on second thought, seemed
a most unhappy comparison, ns Miss
Riley didn't cure for baseball. •
Then she could never care for a pro¬
fessional ball player! He hadn’t
thought of It before, but now, for
some Imperative reason that he didn’t
try to analyze, the idea forced Itself
upon him. If she couldn’t care, what
then?
“We land at Gibraltar tomorrow. 1 1
Win Shute heard a passing remark,
and suddenly it dawned on him that
the day he once had looked forward to
most keenly, but which he had al¬
most forgotten, was at hand. At last
he' could move against Ids enemies!
Now he could establish his identity!
But something held 1dm back. Miss
Riley wasn’t fond of baseball! She
had come to like “Mr. James,” but
would she, a “real swell,” eVer look
with favor upon Win Shute, profes¬
sional bail player? He shook his head
gloomily.
Looking upon the much-advertised
rock next day, he wasn’t at all impa¬
tient to leave the ship.
it Going ashore?” inquired a voice at
his side. It was Jed Mansel, the wire¬
less opera I or.
S’pose so,” answered Shute with¬
out show of enthusiasm.
“Why not join me? 1 know the spot
and the ways of the native holdup
artists. I’ll act as guide If you say
so—glad to.
Never before had Jerrold Mansel of
fered to do Mm a favor. Their only
contact after the first day’s consulta¬
tion over the wireless messages had
come in rivalry over Miss Riley’s
Now the hero of tbe Regent was brim
ful of frieifflliness. Win Shute’s sus
piclons. already sufficiently aroused
regarding Mansel, were considerably
augmented by this urgent invitation,
But he smiled as lie might have done
In facing a pitcher who had something
“on” him.
“Thank you—I’ve no time for sight¬
seeing. I have some business to at
tend to here."
4 Win Shute was off the ship among
the very first—before the wireless op¬
erator; lie saw to that. He hired a
conveyance and ordered the driver to
make tracks for the cable office.
<< Tf you got there before
from the ship I’ll give you
fare!" promised Shute—and he
to.
He wrote out a long message to Tris
Ford, explaining in detail what hail
happened to him and how he had done
his best to communicate by wireless,
and bow be stood over the operator
while lie sent ft. Then he asked bow
. J long it would take to get an answer.
"From two to six hours,” was the
reply.
•Til wait,” announced Shute.
“But don't you want to see the
fortifications?” asked the operator.
«> You will have ample time.”
I want to see nothing except the
reply to that message,” replied Shute,
sitting down find making himself com¬
fortable for a long wait.
After six hours of waiting, the oper¬
ator handed him a cable dispatch. It
read: j
“Ford out of town, Report to Amer
lean consul, Naples, 1)0 you need
money ?" !
It was signed by the cluh's seere
tfl ry. {
lie cabled In answer to address him
1 care ask of for the consul at And Naples, he went He hack did J
not money, ;
|j |,jp q, hilarious frame of ’
, ie s no
mln(l Ills team had lost ttie world’s .
j championship—the [dot against him
had been thoroughly successful I And
he was nq nearer spotting his en
eniles than lie was before going ashore.
| And Miss Riley didn’t care for Imse
I hall! This seemed to cap the climax.
Strange how values change in a voy*
age across the Atlantic.
i Aboard ship he ran upon the ship’s
j doctor and the wireless operator in
i ; close confab. Win Shute was not cu
i rlous until lie caught the doctor’s
\ words:
“The Giant-killers lost. 1 see by the
Dispatch, and you won. I’ll pay you
when we get paid off.”
“My tip was pretty good,” admitted
.Ted Mansel. “1 made quite a killing.
Cleaned up two thousand dollars.”
"Two thousand?” repeated the doc
tor. "You vvere lucky.”
“Not lucky—wise,” corrected Mnu
sel, winking styly. “I knew that one
of the Giant-killers’ best men couldn’t
play."
Win Shute was certain. The wire
ess operator was "a crook. He was a
party to the devilish conspiracy that
had drugged and put him away on
the ship!
Rage such as he had never felt In
all his life consumed him. lie could
not curb his desive to hurl himself up¬
on Mansel and beat him to Insensibili¬
ty. Rut as-he was on his toes to
spring, a restraining hand was laid
upon his arm.
It was Miss Etiley. “May I speak
to you. please?”
Reluctantly Win Shute turned from
his enemy, lie and Miss Riley walked
along the deck until they were out
of hearing of everybody.
“1 looked for you before tbe pass¬
engers went ashoye,” she said. “You
sqe," she went on, then faltered—
“you seo—I wanted to ask a favor of
you.” She stopped.
The ship’s mystery unaccountably
flashed across Win's mind! But lie
didn’t pause a second in replying;
“Sure! Ask something hard. Wish
I could do a real big favor for you.”
“You can. I have a queer feeling
that something is going to happen.
It’s perfectly silly, of course, but—
if something should, will you look af¬
ter mother? She Is so devoted to me
and so dependent on me that I don't
know what she -” Again she fal¬
tered.
1 sure will—and look after you,
too,” answered Win.
' *' That's so good of you. But don’t
trouble nbout me. It’s mother I’m
worried about.’” Then with a look of
unconcealed admiration she concluded:
“But 1 feel better now. It seemed
to tne that you were tbe only one
on the ship that I could go to—the
only one I wanted to trust mother
to."
Notwithstanding tbe bitter disap
pointment of the day, Win Shute
went into, dinner that night with a
heart as buoyant as a.toy balloon.
He was planning a walk and a talk
by southern moonlight with Miss
Riley.
But all evening she paced tbe deck
in earnest conversation with Jerrold
Mansel.
Win Shute figured out to his own
I ' satisfaction why things were thus. He
knew that Miss Riley was receiving
wireless messages—he had seen Man¬
sel hand her more than one—and
Shute decided that the .operator was
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Rage. Such as He Had Never Felt in
Ail His Life, Consumed Him. |
'
taking this means to keep in
with her. Whereas a steward would
carry Mareoriigrams to other passen
gers, Jed Mansel Invariably delivered -
Miss Riley’s messages himself. Nat- j
urally this attention would be recog- j
nized by an appreciative person like J
Miss Riley. '
That Jerrold Mansel was downright i
crooked, there wasn’t much doubt. i
But Win had to admit that his proof
was far from conclusive. Tris Ford's
wireless was a lake—but there was
tbe possibility of faking somewhere
along the line w transmission. Man-
sel imd bet heavily against the Giant
killers—hut so had thousands of oth
er persons. The operator’s remark
nbout the player who would he missed
from the line-up was strong circum¬
stantial evidence against him—and
still It could have beeu^-a "second
guess;’’ he might have heard after
the series that one of the best men
had been out of the game. Certainly
there wasn't enough solid proof to
warrant Win Shute In denouncing the
wireless operator.
And If he did—If he wnrned Miss
Riley against .lerrold Manse)—It
wouldMnvolve a disclosure of the fact
that he, James Winton Shute, was a
professional baseball player. lie
wasn't ready to make that admission.
The fact that the finest girl didn’t care
a hang for the national pastime con¬
stituted a mighty .serious problem. It
wasn’t pleasant to continue to mas¬
querade as "Mr. James," hut It was
an incognito enforced. So things were
permitted to drift.
* * * * * * * * *
It was moonlight on the Mediter¬
ranean, the last night but one of Win
Shute's long voyage to Naples from
unconsciousness. lie lmd started out
to act the part of a "trusty”—to do
nothing against the captain’s author¬
ity, but secretly to woVk toward one
end. namely, the circumvention of Ills
enemies. After a fortnight at sea, al¬
though he was naturally interested In
his own ease, ho had lost much of
his violent anger against (hose who
had forced him to become_a passenger
on the ship. For if they hadn’t—If he
had remained at home—he would not
have mol the finest girl! As’Tris Ford
would have said: “There ain’t noth
ing to that."
It was early, scarcely dark, hut with
n full moon, and together they were
on the lookout for the first sight of
Genoa. They had arrived at that im¬
portant stiige of their acquaintance
when the original discovery was to
he made of front names.
“Yoitlve never told me your name,
he urged,
“Mother always ealls me 'Girlie, > »»
she responded, half in fun.
.. I know—but I never was strong for
pet names—In public, I mean. Tell
me your real inline.”
She was plainly embarrassed. It
was a perfectly justifiable question,
and there was no reason, which h e
could see, why she should hesitate.
Yet she did.
■ I’m not going to use ftr—till you
want me to.”
I Oh, It's not that—not that at all.
I’d. be glad to have you call me—
Imogen. It’s Imogen.”
“Imogen Itiley,” repeated Win.
“Say, that’s some name. If I’d named
you myself, I’d have called yoA—
Imogen.”
“Mol Iter will be glad.” And she
lunched
“Now. what’s your name?” she
asked.
It was bis turn to be “fussed” and
to hesitate. "My middle name’s Win
ton—most everybody calls me Win. M
“I suppose because you always do.
“Till now I have.
She edged away a trifle.
“Winton James is an excellent
name,” she "declared. it I don’t believe
I would have It anything else.”
He kicked the rail with his toe. it’
was an impatient kick. Masquerader!
“Look !’■'
She pointed to the lights, myriads
of lights, bobbing on the shipping in
the harbor and stretching high up to
tbe summits of Monte I’eraldo, yvhere
they lost their identity In the winking
stars.
11 Genoa 1” he exclaimed.
—the Superb,” she completed.
“But tomorrow we go to Naples,
■ nd then- Win regarded Imogen
wistfully.
- Don’t speak of tomorrow, w she
hastened to say.
No,” be agreed. “We have tonight
—ail to ourselves.”
“Yes,” she whispered.
But they didn’t.
As the Colonia was warped in to the
dock, olive-skinned officers, most of
them with black moustachios, swarm
ed about (be head of tbe pier. In their
dress and cocky bearing they closely
resembled soldiery.- And they formed
a guard about each gangway before
any one was permitted to land.
Other officers came aboard Imme¬
diately, and tlie word soon flew around
tbe decks, started by some prattling
petty officer of the ship, that the
“boarders" were connected with tbe
secret service of Italy, This resur
reeled the Ship’s mystery, and tongues
began to wag and beads turn in excite¬
ment over the imminent disclosure of
the fugitive’s identity. At length was
circulated the Information that the
officers were seeking l?y a young woman
who was wanted both the Italian
and the United States governments.
Finally came the name—a Miss Leon
Accident Blamed On Poor Streets
Atlanta.—A suit for ten thousand
lollars damages has been filed in Ful
ton superior court against the city
Atlanta by G. S. Oxford, who al
.eges tliat he sustained serious inju
rie's lor which the condition of the
Atlanta streets is responsible. In his
suit he claims that a hole in Decatur
street, near longe, which was ' iee
eet long, two feet wide and a foot in
iepth, had been filled with water so
:bat it looked like a shallow pudd e
if perhaps an inch in depth, and that
lis wagon, which he was driving to
ward Atlanta on the right-hand side
if Decatur street, ran into the hole,
;hrowing him under its wheels and in
iuring him severely, The suit further
iharges that the city was directly re
sponsible, in that the hole represented
negligence of eitv officials.
arfl.
Hearing It, Imogen trembled and
clutched Win Shute by the arm.
“What’s the matter?" he asked, star
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“My Name’s Leonard—Imogen Leon¬
ard. Forgive Me.
lng into her terrified face. "It’s—It’s
Leonard.”
My name’s Leonard—Imogen Leon¬
ard. Forgive nte!”
PART III.
Pulling Off the Play.
Win Shute had been jolted at Genoa.
Another, but more agreeable surprise
awaited him at Naples. After the Co
lonia, having cut a white lane across
the cobalt Bay of Naples, was ma¬
neuvering to dock, he saw on the
wharf, scanning every face looking
down from the big black ship—Tris
Ford.
As Win Shute learned afterward.
the manager of the Giant-killers had
kept his objective a secret from every
living soul save bis wife. Even the
cltib officials supposed, for several
days, that the manager had slipped
quietly out of the city to rest after the
hardest fought diamond battle In the
records of the national game. The
secretary had been told to reply to
any cablegram from Win Shute In
one way: to say that Tris Ford was
ont of town, and to urge the second
baseman to remain on hoard until the
ship called at Naples, where he would
be met by I be American consul.
big series ended on Tuesday, and at
1 a. ill. next morning Tris Ford,
the nont de mer of Anson Jones, had
sailed on tbe Lauretanin. The follow¬
ing Monday morning lie landed
Fishguard, boarded the special train
for Dover, crossed the
channel, and arrived In Paris in
afternoon. Ford left the Gare de Lyon
at ten o’clock that night, and after n
night, n day, and a second night on
the train arrived in Romo early Tues¬
day morning. The Colonia wasn’t
at Naples until the next day. He
at the palace leased by the Hon. John
Bismer, American ambassador to Italy,
before Unit Chicago millionaire had
finished His uncontinental breakfast
fruit, oatmeal, ham and eggs, and
coffee, eaten to the accompanying
rusal of the Continental Dally Mall.
The ambassador was
TRIStram CarlingFORD. John Bis
mer’s boss, the president of the Unit¬
ed States, was a
fan; also, the White House staff
fans down to tbe clerk who
the social Invitations; and when
assistance of Washington had been
solicited in the hunt for the king
second basemen and the pursuit
his kidnapers, all other
business, foreign and domestic,
shunted into second place. President
Bancroft of the American league af¬
terward observed that not for
had be been distributing annual
In Morocco leather cases to tbe
tive branch of tbe government.
So If Ambassador Bismer succeeded
in rendering valuable service in
search and capture, lie would lie
tain of more official favor even than
when lie secured Ihe contracts for
Chinese battleships for Yankee ship¬
builders—Ids one real diplomatic
unipli. Whieli explains why be
more than cordial in his greeting
(lie ninnsiger of the Galnt-kfilers.
As in nil of the pourparlers of
plomncy. the interview between
Bismer and Tris Ford was some
arriving at the main point. Ford
to piny over the world series for
ambassador's benefit heiore lie could
get down to tbe business at baud.
“What a heartbreaking finish!"
Claimed the ambassador
game—score 1 to 0 against you—men
on second and third—nobody out
and you mean to tell me ,vou couldn’t
squeeze a run across tbe plate?”
Tris Ford was literal-minded when
talking baseball, He took it that
ambassador used squeeze in the tech¬
nical sense—that lie meant to ask why
the “squeeze play" hadn’t been at
tempted. tried
“You’d naturally think we’d ’a’
the squeeze, now wouldn’t you?” said
Ford. “It was a great chance for it
—for our double squeeze, In fact’.
“You got me,’’ confessed the ambas
sador. “What on earth’s the 'double
squeeze’? Must have come in since I
put on velvet pants.
John Bismer laughed at his own
Joke on the diplomatic service, as did
Tris Fm- ’
(To be continued.)
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GOVERNOR HUGH M. DORSEY.
Democratic Candidate for the U. S. Senate Subject to the
Georgia State Primary September 8, 1920 .
THE MAN THE OFFICE SOUGHT
Our people are divided into two political camps.
The line between them is sharply drawn.
On .one side is the great host of true blue, tried and stal
wart democrats who fight WITH our party and not
AGAINST it. ...
On the other side are the extremists, radicals, insurgents,
who carp, criticise, condemn. this campaign—no place
There is no middle ground in
for straddlers, trimmers, political acrobats.
Governor Dorsey is the accepted candidate of an over¬
whelming majority of the sterling democrats who stand
steadfast in the faith of our fathers. They know he is a 100
per cent Democrat—that his feet are firmly planted on the
platform of National Democracy. and
He is in absolute harmony with our Party principles principles
policies and he is absolutely against Republican
and policies. record.
Governor Dorsey has a notable constructive
He has done more for the Public Schools, for Highways,
for the protection of the people’s health than any other pub¬
lic official in years. of his office
He has used his influence and the authority
to the utmost limit—
To establish a great state-wide Highway system,
To better the Public School system, i
To secure State aid for County High Schools,
To reduce Illiteracy, meningitis, diphthe
To combat epidemics of influenza,
ria, and smallpox; which has already
To wipe out malaria—a movement
saved untold suffering and lives;
To save children from Blindness;
To help the feeble-minded,
To care for Tubercular victims, them useful
To save boys who started wrong and to give
training, banks and depositors,
To give better protection to
To check swindling stock salesmen; the
To enact the Workmen’s Compensation measure, enacted in
greatest piece of progressive legislation ever
Georgia in the interest of laboring men; people’s
To oppose wasteful spending of the money;
To develop and construct inland waterways. the
We ask all Georgians to vote for Governor Dorsey for
Senate. Jr., Chairman,
Hugh H. Gordon, COMMITTEE.
DORSEY CAMPAIGN
Headquarters,
Kimball House, Atlanta.
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