Newspaper Page Text
4-
A
A Story for Baseball Fans Fhai Will
Interest Every Lover of the National Game
^ Ihe “Man of Mystery” Ma^es
Everything Clear in 1 his Great Story
1
SYNOPSIS.
k Gordon Kelly, a young North Gaor-
i tin mountaineer, comas to Atlanta
i to get a place with Billy Smith's
1 Crackers. ft is raining when he
[ reaches Ponce DeLeon and he is
» nearly run over by an auto, in which
} are two persons—a man and a young
{ girl. The driver of the oar is an
i arrogant fellow. The girl makes
him stop the machine She gets out
; and inouires if Kelly is injured. She
, apologizes for her companion’s
brusque manner. Kelly sees Mana
ger Smith and tells him he has never
orfayed a game of ball. Smith con-
dents to give Kelly a trial
Now go on with the story.
By A. H. C. MITCHELL.
The manager gave the applicant a
searching look. Kelly had the large
blue-gray eye# of George Slosson,
the billlardlfit. and he returned the
look in a long, steady gaze without
winking. It was all right to have
, Slosson’s eyes. Smith thought, but
, that gaze without winking was an
other matter The manager recalled
■kjk having read that insane persons have
1 that peculiarity. At that moment,
f however, the corners of Kelly's eyes
began to wrinkle pleasantly and his
mouth widened into a smile again,
disclosing that wonderful set of white
teeth. Bill Smith promptly forgot all
about crazy people.
A Mind Reader.
“Say.” demanded the manger, “what
brand of tooth powder do you use?”
“Pure castile soap, on a tooth
brush,” replied Kelly. "It is some
what bitter, but it does the business
for me.”
"Mix some sugar in the soap and sell
it as the ‘Gordon Kelly Tooth Paste.'
You’ll make more out of it, I’m think
ing. than you ever will out of base
ball,”
"I know you think I’m crazy/
laughed the young man.
"You’re a mind reader.” returned
the manager, quickly.
Whisky poked his head in the door
and said, significantly:
"Boss, when you gits time Ah’d like
to see you 'bout some ’portant base
ball business’.” He emphasized the
word baseball, rolling It off like an
end mar trying to impress the in
terlocutor.
"All right. Whisky; I’ll see you in
a few r minutes,” replied Bill Smith,
pleasantly.
“Your attendant doesn't seem to be
very much impressed with me,” ob
served Kelly.
"All Whisky thinks about is base
ball and ball players,” replied the
manager "You will have to make
good with him as well as myself be
fore you will stand much chance
around this club house.”
"That brings us right back to the
original proposition,” said Kelly,
briskly. “What’s the verdict?”
‘Til be perfectly candid with you,
Mr. Kelly. I don’t believe you have
a chance in the world to make good
, on it. At the same time you nevei
can tell. I make it a rule never to
pass up a man until I have had a
chance to look him over If you want
to Kick around for a while I have no
objections to your doing so. But you
aee I am lukewarm and skeptical.”
"That's all right. Mr. Smith: I don’t
blame you, but I’ll take my chances,’
replied Kelly with a smile.
A Few Questions.
"My players will not be reporting
for spring practice before ten days
or two weeks,” continued the mana
ger. "In the meantime, as I don't
want them to have anything on me,
I'm going to get in condition before
they arrive. I’m going to start in this
afternoon. The sun is out and the
grounds will be dried out by 2 o’clock
If you want to come around at that
time, you are welcome to do so."
"Thank you; I will be here," re
plied the applicant. "As my clothes
s«eem to be dry. I’ll slip them on."
The manager picked up his copy of
“Sporting Life" and proceeded to ab
sorb some more baseball “dope" while
the other dressed.
"Much obliged. Mr. Smith.” said
Kelly, when he w*as ready for the
street. "I’ll see you this afternoon.”
"One moment,” said the manager.
"You said you came from the moun
tain district?"
"Yes. sir."
"Born there?”
“Yes. sir."
"Lived there all your life?”
"Yes, sir."
"Never been to Atlanta or any oth
er city before?”
j. "No, sir.”
, “Never saw a ball game?”
v ‘<No, sir."
Lil
“You don’t talk like a Southerner." j
"No. sir.”
"You er—all right. Set* you later.
So long."
Gordon Kelly disappeared through
the doorway with a long, swinging
stride. Instantly Whisky came into
the clubhouse by another entrance.
“There goee a mystenloso for you.
Whisky," said Bill Smith, cocking
his feet on the stove again.
"A mvste-what. sir?” demanded
Whisky.
"A mysterioso. It is .i Latin word,
derived from a combination of com
plicated Spanish and Portuguese
phrases, with a dash of Slavonic in
it. It signifies that the person re
ferred to is not exactly clear to tin
understanding; that he is, in fact,
somewhat obscure, or unexplained
In short. Whisky, there is a certain ;
something—a vague in-com-pre-hen-
si-bil-i-tive-ness appertaining to his
striking personality. Do you get
me?”
"Yasslr. yassir. I knowed he wasn’t
no ball player when 1 fust sized him
up.”
CHAPTER m.
XT’EITHER the driver nor the
young woman who sat beside
him in the high-powered, un
derslung automobile spoke a - the ear
raced in the blinding rain up the hill
leading from Ponce DeLeon Park,
where they had left Gordon Kelly
standing in the middle of the road
But when the machine was forced to
slow down and then come to a sto,>,
in accordance with the traffic regula
tions of Atlanta, which forbids an
automobile to pass to the right of a
street car discharging or taking <>n
passengers, the driver turned to his
companion and said:
"I can’t understand, for the life <»f
me. Mildred, why you insisted on
turning around and going back :<•
that fellow. You saw him get up
and that proved he wasn’t hurt anv
It was entirely his fault. He had no
business in the middle of the sires;
with an automobile speeding the way
this was. He was entitled to n<*
consideration whatever—that is. in
view of the fact that he wasn’t hurt
at all. It was purely unnecessary
for you to go back and < nmrni.s-r;
with him. Just look at us; not a
square inch of dry clothes on eitk. r
of us. You’ll catch it from your moth
er and I don't blame her. although 1
suppose I will get the blame for it
all.”
“Are you trying to quarrel with
me, Forrest?” replied Mildred. P -
cause if you are 1 will get out of th
car and walk the rest of the wiy
home. You say you can not under
stand why I asked you to return an.
see if the young man was inja
For my part l can not unnerstany
how you so far forgot common de
cency and even hesitated about turn
ing back. And you acted like a brut
to that young man. 1 don't think i
care to go automobile riding with
you again, Forrest.”
“No Need to Argue.”
The machine started forward again
and quickly passed the street car.
Forrest took a lit'le time to digest .iN
companion’s rent irks and then r
said in a less surly tone
“I guess I'm getting in bad v, a
you. Mildred.”
The young woman ignored ties re
mark and went on: “Why. to think
you were actually running away from
the scene of the accident and
“I wasn't running away.’’ the driver
broke in impatiently. "1 want'd to
get you home and out of the wet as
quickly as possible.”
“There is ito need to argue over
declared Mildred. “I have a pr u>
clear idea of all that happened. And
as for ‘catching it.’ as you say, from
my mother, please understand. Ker-
rest. that 1 am old enough loot
out for myself and my mother know ;
it, if you don’t.”
"Now, don't get peevish, my char
girl.” said Forrest with a frown.
“Hurry home, please. I'm afraid
1 am going to ha\y? a chill,” wa- the
young woman's answer.
The rain had cea ed and the sun
broke through the clouds ;;s th* < ar
turned off Peachtree Street and ran
a short distance down an inter, acting
thoroughfare and drew up in from
of a large, old-fashioned house* • *
well back from the street. The* well-
kept grounds and ihe orderly ip
pearance of the property indicated
that its owner had the means and
the prkle to properly condm * bis es
tablishment.
The young woman stepped from the
car and. with a curt “Good-bye." hur
ried up the walk in the direction of
the house. Her clothes hung to In r
like sheets of lead; she was a so* : \
looking figure. The inciden* of a fev.
Yen poor child,” said Mildred’s mother. ‘ Hurry right to your room and you can tell me all about it later.”
.tiled
it and the surprising agil-
ped- strian. His quickness
• uvorl him from a hoVribh
Like Pieters.
J
and I n)
A.-’r.
•d. rob<
{ in
her hod. Her mpthei
di
ew the
hi/* n
il m
line, but
»nt inut
to eafi
ados and tiptoed out o
th
e room.
him G
eorg
i
ion after, tin* young wo?
nan
fell in -
r hi.-
hath*,' l
slip/
ed on his
1 to
a troubled sleep, fin; s
he
J reamed
bat hr*
be ;
nd thro
v\
himse
If on a
or
standing in ihe middle
of
a road
lounge
i tn
a sweeping rainstorm;
of h
or hand
“Get
irge.
he ore
erf
*d. “ca
11 up the
n,
ing held In the clasp of
tall young
florist
and
tell hin
t
o sene
roses to
m
in. or' hi? large blue-
gra
of that
Miss
Deer
y l o
, Incl
o-ing my
oking straight into her
ind
card.
The
n get o
ut
some
clothes. 1
j w
mderful smile and of the
>se
iazzling
am go
ng c
ver to t
ho
club f
ir lunch.”
w
iite teeth.
* * *
Gain
lay
back o
n
the lo
unge and
menta
lly i
e viewed
t'
le inc
idents of
Forrest Caki sat motior
les.
in his
the m
o riling. He
d mad
e up Ills
tomobilr and Nvatehed
retreat -
mind
rired
o In
partici
lar
ly nic
e to Mil-
! in
g figure y:' Mildred Deery.
If ho
Deei
y, but
t
see met
he had j
pecteo her to turn and v.
a ve
;w fa re
made*
a h 0
ch of it
Every
hing had
!!, he wa dUappointe
d.
fer she
gone
smoo
thly un
til
lie h;
id nearly
di
*■• tppeared within the c
OOP
of the
rcr t
le man
front
of Ponce
i^e, giving him no furxn
or sign
Do Leo
n Pr
rk. M
Idr
ed ha
cl been a
recognition. Pitting
his
car in
very
ham
ling, liv
ely
comt
anion up
in
>tioil he drove it to
lie
garage.
to th;
t time, but
when he
was for
rnned out. hurried to
his
rooms,
lea vin
g the
victim
of
the
accident
y>\
ore roundly at hi? man.
poured ou'
spra w
ing
in the
ro
id hCr
manner |
a
stiff drink of bourbon wins
ky and
chang
itirely.
W
hen h
' refused i
di
.ink it, stripped ofr his
clot
he
ies and
to tu
kicked
n t
h
ad de
liberately
t into a hot bath, where
smoked
magn
eto
swit
eh over.-
a
cigarette his' mun pla
ing
it be-
catisin
g th(
car to
p, and
then she|
tv
ten hi? lips and holdin
g ti
lighted
threat
■ned
to get
Hit
and \
alk backJ
ITT
jten t<> it.
t o w h
ere t
he youn
g r
nan w
as unless
Reviewed the Moraine-
h e t u
*ned
the car
ound
and took
Hi? valet was a color
her b;
ick.
Yes, h(
fl
gu red
this was
&u
man of
a bad
play
on his
pa
rt and
he must
i 1
out his own age, thirty
yea
rs. lie
work
fully to
*t bac
k in herj
'VI
s formerly a Pullman
car
porter,
ip. a few months back.
wh
on Cain
good
y race
s* again
n streak, 1
Wj
s making a particularly
riot
ous and
• As
ma
ter of f«
let,
a me?
t r
ouWesotne trip from N<
\v
York to
of wh
ch h
e had nc
few
n his na-!
lanta, attended to hi?
w
ants in
ture (
hov.
*d itself
at
the w'
rung mo- |
Fit
eh an eager and solicit*
IUR
man net'
merit.
H.
wondei
ed
if he
couldn’t
at Gain had hired him
iy from
lay it
all f
ff to thf
ft
irious
and sud-1
e Pullman Company.
Th
en anti
- den i
ainst
orm an
d
plead
that the
re (‘ain had called his
nan
George
shock
of m
arly kill
ing
a man had un-1
the train, as all colored
porters
nervec
him. In t
le
meantime he j
called hy the trave
ing
public,
would
hav
e fiowei
•ent t<
Mildred
d w hen George entered
hjs
employ
Deerv
eve
-y day fl
nd
play
his cards
didn't trouble himself
to
inquire
carefi
lly i
a future
1
Calling for his clothes, Cain ar
rayed himself with his usual care and
sauntered forth to his club. Among
the jeunessee doree of Atlanta he was
the acknowledge Beau Brummell and
to such an extent that they would not
venture to consult their tailors at
certain seasons of th,e year until For
rest, Cain had appeared on the streets
of the city displaying the last word
in sartorial art.
Forrest Cain was a lily of the valley
in more wavs than one. He toiled
not, neither did he spin. He was one
of the few wealthy young men of At
lanta who employed his time in kill
ing that measure of duration. The
other young men of his set. while j
many of them could easily afford to!
loaf, preferred to engage in business.
Cain shared his father's estate with
his married sister, his only relative,
and he was known to have spent
more money in a night than she spent
In a year. He lived a life of ease
and luxury and attended to matters
of business only when it was abso
lutely necessary for him to do so.
CHAPTER IV.
I T was on a matter of business that
Forrest Cain had made a lunch-
i eon engagement at his club that
I day. It was with Galen Deery, Mil-
! dred’s father, a crafty speculator in
1 timber lands, who by strict attention
to business had piled up more money
than he had any use for, but from
; lifelong habit he persisted in striv-
i ing for more.
As one of the executors of his fa-
| ther’s will, Cain came across the
I deeds' to a piece of property consist-
‘ ing of several thousand acres, situ
ated in the northwestern part of the
State, lb had never seen the prop
erty and it did not Interest him. so
when Galen Deary had, several
months before, offered to buy It for
spot cash, he was for selling it with
out any further trouble in the matter.
But his more husihesslike sister,
when she heard that it was Galen
Deery who made the offer, figured
there was something behind it all that
did not appear on the surface and
refused her permission to sell.
Showed His Cards.
After blurting around for several
weeks. Deery was forced to lay his
band on the table and show his cards.
It was then seen that Deery, too,
owned several thousands of acres in
the neighborhood of the Cain estate’s
property, which he had acquired sev
eral years before through a fore
closure process. And it further ap
peared that Deery had evolved a vast
scheme involving lumber, water pow
er and manufacturing plants, vvihch
would net several millions of dollars
If successfully carried out. But in
order to carry out the plan it was
necessary for Deery to not only con
trol the Cain property, but also a
vast tract of land that laid between
the Deery property and the Gain
property. This intermediate proper
ty was really the key to the whole
situation. Deery counted on first ac
quiring the Gain holdings and then
quietly grabbing up the other.
When his sister refused to sanction
a sale of the land to Deery, Cain men
tally cursed the perverseness of wo
men generally, but when his sister
forced Deery to a showdown he was
quick enough to see that she was
right and was* wrong. The re
sult of the whole business was that
Deery and the Cains, brother and sis
ter, formed a partnership for the de
velopment of the plan, with Deery
as general manager of the proposi
tion. Early that morning Deery had
telephoned that he needed some help
on a matter that had Just developed,
so it was arranged that they meet
at the club for lunch and talk it
over.
After fortifying himself with a
couple of cocktails agaimvt an unin
teresting session with Deery, Cain sat
down at the table with him and tried
to appear Interested in what he had
to say. As soon as the waiter had
retired with the order' Deery opened
up as follows:
“Forrest, I’ve got something in con
nection with our scheme that is
right in your line, and if you will get
busy on it we will land that piece
of property that separates yours from
mine and we can go right ahead with
our plans ”
“Much work involved In It? You
know I'm not very strong for work,”
said Cain.
No Work at All.
“No work at all; simply pleasure;
right in your line, I tell you."
“That being the case, I will listen
more carefully than I otherwise would
have done. Please proceed."
“Well,” began Deery. "I haven’t
bothered you much with the details
of the work I have been putting In
on this scheme lately, because usu
ally you refuse to listen. But as a
matter of fact the old warhorse that
owned that property that ’lies be
tween us died three or four months
ago—got full of liquor and Jumped off
a mountain, or something like that.
But. being of sound mind and body
a short time before this event took
place, he made a new will and sent
it down here to old Judge Barbee, his
lawyer. The property is left to his
son, who isn’t of age, but pretty close
to it. In a previous will be had left
the property to his wife, but she died
tw'o years ago. Of course, the son
would have got the property anyway,
but I guess he thought it better to
make a new will and save all com
plication?.
"I learned all this early this morn
ing. when 1 happened to pick up
Judge Barbee and take him downtown
in my car. But beyond all this I
learned that this son is in Atlanta
and the Judge expects to see him any
minute. He wrote several days ago
that he would'be here March 1.
"Now’, the judge doesn’t know we’re
after that property, and neither does
the son. What 1 want you to do is
to get acquainted with the young
fellow and prove tc him that city
life beats mountain life so far that
he will never want to see that piece
of property again and will be glad
to sell It for a song. I expressed an
interest in the young man to Judge
Barbee and said I would like to meet
him, but 1 can’t entertain him the
way you can. The best I can do is
to have him up to dinner some night.
You know’ I’m not much on clubs.
I do not even go to lodge meeting as
often as I should.
"Now, Forrest, here’s something
right in your line; something you
can do to the queen's taste. Re--
member the scheme is worth millions
to us If W’e can get this young fellow's
land. Just make things pleasant for
him, but, on your life, don’t talk busi
ness with him. You would spoil it
all. Leave the business end of it to
me.”
“That sounds promising.” said Cain,
“and of course I’ll do all I can to
push a good thing along.”
Deery unfolded some other details
of the big scheme he was working
on and did most of the talking until
they had finished their meals. Then
he looked at his watch and said ho
must hurry to keep an appointment.
He put on his hat and shook hands
with Gain. A flunky opened the door,
and he was about to pass out, when
Cain hailed him.
"By the w f ay, Mr.. Deery. what is
the name of the young man? You for
got to tell me.”
"His name is Gordon Kelly.”
CHAPTER V.
A T 2 o’clock that same afternoon
Gordon Kelly walked into the
clubhouse back of the grand
stand on the Atlanta baseball grounds.
Ht> carried a large bundle wrapped in
a kind of home-made canvas covering
in one hand, while in the other were
three bats wrapped together. These
bats were of the kind known to ball
players as the "Louisville Slugger.”
Bill Smith was there before him
and was in the act of putting on an
old set of ‘spangles,’’ as the ball
players call their uniforms. He greet
ed Kelly with a grin.
"Hello, young fellow. ,1 see I can’t
Tose you."
"You’re right about that. Mr.
Smith,” returned the embryo Ty Cobb.
“You said I could come around and
practice with you, but any time you
get tired of your bargain all you have
to do is to say the word and I’ll get
out,”
“What have you got In that
bundle?" demanded the manager.
"My uniform and fixings.”
“Let’s have a look at ’em.”
Kelly unfastened the canvas cover
and displayed a regulation gray uni
form that showed signs of some wear,
cap. dark blue stockings, well-worn
baseball shoes, with spikes attached,
a fielder’s glove that had evidently
seen service, sliding pads, heavy un
dershirt and drawers. Rolled up in
the stockings were a pair of “sun
field’’ goggles—smoked glasses used
by outfielders when the sun shines di
rectly in their eyes. Smith examined
the outfit critically.
“Where’d you get all this stuff?”
he asked.
"Bought it.”
The manager picked up a well-worn
shoe and looked at the sole of it.
There were traces of red Georgia clay
around the spikes.
"Never played a game of ball in
your life, eh?" Smith gave the young
man a searching look as he asked the
question.
“That's true, Mr. Smith,” replied
Kelly, returning the look steadily.
"Never saw a ball game, I believe
you told me?”
"That’s true, too.”
“I’ve Told the Truth.”
The manager dropped the shoe and
resumed the putting on of h* uni
form.
“I can't quite figure you out. Kel
ly," he said, pulling on his shirt and
buttoning it. "If you’re trying to put
something over on me,” he added
grimly, “it is Just as well that you
have It done with before my players
arrive.”
"I Stive you my word, Mr. Smith,
that 1 have told you the exact truth
in regard to myself. I'm not trying
to fool anybody; I want to play ball.”
I Kelly replied, seriously,
j "All right, Bo, we'll let it goat that."
remarked the manager. "Get on your
spangles and we’ll go out on the field
and take some exercise."
At this juncture Whisky walked
Into the clubhouse, gave one look at
Ihe recruit, sniffed the air contemptu-
j ously, turned around and walked right
| out again. Ten minutes later Smith,
| carrying a brand new baseball In his
hand, strode on the field, followed bv
Gordon Kelly. Their relative size
might be compared with Weber &
Fields, or Mutt and Jeff. The man
ager hardly tall enough to reach the
young man’s shoulder.
To Be Continued To-morrow.
A hostess, who was going to give a
big dinner party, hired a page for
that particular evening to help with
tlj* waiting, and duly impressed his
’duties upon him during the course of
the afternoon.
"Now James.” she said, "it will be
your duty to hand round the wines,
and you will begin with the sherry.
There are two kinds of sherry, and
the inferior kind is to be offered with
the soup. Do you understand ?
James duly mastered this and the
other details of his work, and the
banquet began. Presently the hostess
signed to James, and that young man.
seizing fne decanter, began to make
his rounds, saying in clear and pene
trating tones as he approached each
guest;
•inferior sherry, ma’am?
sherry, sir?"
TRUTHFUL JAMES
THEIR 1
M
[A.
Rl
RI
£!
D 1
LI
F
E" v? Helen Learns How a Girl Alone Achieves
L Her Own Home and Her Independence h
By MABEL HERBERT URNER
Inferior
fl VOID IMPURE MILK
for Infants «.d Invalids
HO RUCK’S
It means the Original and Genuine
MALTED MILK
"OtAeU JmUatien£
TH* Food-Drink tor all Ages
Rich milk, malted grain, in powder form.
For infanta, invalids .nd growing children.
Pure nutrition,upbuilding the whole body.
Invigorates nursing mothers and the aged.
Ve>re healthful than tea or coffee,
rake lie eubatltute. Aek far HORLICK’S
HORLICK’S Contain* Pure Milh
O N each side of the vestibule was
the row of names, letter boxes
and bells. Some- of the names
were on soiled cards-carelessly writ
ten and carelessly inserted, .which
gave one an unpleasant impression ot
the tenant. Others were printed and
one or two were on metal plates,
Helen pressed the bell under a neat
card in small script type—"Miss
Laura Wilson.” From the door came
an answering click.
Inside the hall was dark and nar
row. The stairs were at the hack.
She had just turned the second flight
when Laura Wilson, in a large bib
apron, appeared at the landing above.
"Oh, it was dear of you to come,”
leading Helen into the little four-
room flat. "I’ve been so excited about
U all day. 1 could hardly wait to get
home from the office.”
“I do hope you haven’t gone to any
rouble.” protested Helen a? she took
off her things in the tiny bedroom.
"What a cunning little place!” look
ing around with eager interest.
"Isn’t it? And I’m so absurdly
croud of it all! Oh, I’ve so much to
tell you—I don’t know where to be
gin. It seems so wonderful to have a
real home of my own. Wait. Tv* (
something on the stove that’ll burn’
Gome on out if you want to." and she I
darted into the kitchen.
It had been over a year since Helen
had called on Laura Wilson in her
dingy furnished room. She had just
come to New York then from Helen’-
home town, and Helen’s mother had
written her to call and see what she
could do to make her feel less lonely.
Helen had had Laura to dinner sev
eral times and then had lost track of
her. as one so often does in New
York. It was only by chance they
had met again in the subway. Laura
had told
her enthusiast!
(•ally of
a lit -
kot of fre
sh \(
getables
und
•r the
It was not
tie fouv-
room fiat she
had taki
n on
table.
.
the
inner
One Hur
ulred and Fifty
-sixth S
treat.
“Love
them,
’ ansvve
red
Helen
cham
u to t;
antf had
cage rtv inristet
• ■n her
com-
prompt ly.
"It
all cam
ing up s.
tine evening for
dinner.
"Well t
lat makes about
eleven
ment
—darti
“I’d as
< Mr. (‘urtis. to
o." she If
uigh-
dollars a
mont
h, which
leav
s my
coming hack
« d. “onl>
I ha vent’ cnou
gh dishe
s."
rent only
thirtec
n, and I
paid
fifteen
ping
whirii s
So He!
en promised to
come thf
first
for that s
econd
-story ha
rk room at
“W
ANTED
evening
Warren dined
out. Sfy
p felt
Mrs. EPis
>n’s—
ou know
how
dinpry
of a
four-ro
conscten
•e-strieken tlih
she lia
1 not
and depre
ssing
that was
offer
refused
kept in touch with her. A young wom
an alone in New. York here were
many way s she might have helped
her.
Blue and White.
“Isn’t it the dearest little kitchen?”
proudly, as Helen exclaimed over it
all. “I had the loveliest time fixing
up my china closet. Look—1 painted
it all white myself.”
Everything was blue and white, the
shelving paper, the china, the tea and
coffee canisters and even the enam
eled sauce pans.
“But doesn’t it cost a good deal to
keep this up?” for she knew Laura’s
salary as a stenografiller could not
be very large.
' "It doesn’t cost me any more than
it did in that awful furnished room,
and I made myself sick eating around
at cheap restaurants."
"Rut vour rent here ” began
Helen.
“My rent is just twenty-four dol
lars." as she took from the refrig
erator a plate <»f butter anck put a
generous spoonful in the potatoes she
was creaming. “I have' the bed room
rented to a young girl for two dollars
and a half a week. I'll show it to
you in a minute. That was supposed
to be the living room you were in-
I’ve made that into my bed room, and
used the dining room for a sitting
room. Do you like onions?" taking
a bu’jfli of young ohions from a bas-
Again she went to the refrigerator
an'cl took out a platter of five freshly
cut lamb chops with paper frills on
the trimmed bones.
“I told my butcher 1 was going to
have my first company dinner to
night. and you see how he dressed up
the chops,” taking off the papers and
laying the chops on the hot iron
grill. "Oh. I can't tell you how I love
it all—rnv little kitchen and my own
bath! But you haven’t seen anything,
have you? Now," as she shoved th-
grill back in the oven, "come, I’ll
show' you the fiat.’’
Helen was enthusiastic about it alj.
Everything was so clean and orderly.
The tiny bath room was spotlessly
white.
"The landlord papered the rooms,
but he wouldn’t do anything to the
bath room and kitchen—so I had to
paint all this woodwork myself. Oh,
you don’t know what you can do with
a can of white paint!"
"What a clever idea!" exclaimed
Helen. pointing to a step-ladder
which was tied up by two big hook-
on the wail of th** bath room.
“Yes, I didn't have any place to
put it, so I tied it up there. It’s out
of the* way, and it doesn't look ? •
bad. does it?"
“But’ how did you get all these
things—surely you don’t get it fur
nished for $24?"
"Oh, no—n<J. they’re-a 11 mine. Wait.
I'll have to turn the chops!”
really had
into
i and
> sell the content&r
lat. No reasonable
rtv leaving the city.
... ..v-v ,»n be rented for $24.
Apply Powetf, No. . W. 150th St/'
I saw that in one of the Sunday
papers and came light up. An old
lady had it; she was selling out to go
to live* with her son. She let me have
everything for $35. Of course, it’s all
cheap furniture, but it's not in such
bad taste, and everything was clean.”
"Why, I think that was wonder
fully cheap—$35! Not the rugs too?"
Bought That New.
"Yos, the rugs and curtains—every-
thing but the china and kitchenware.
I bought that new, but it cost very
little. This blue china is all ten cents,
except the meat platter—that was
thirty. Now’ you must have another
chop—they're so small."
“They’re delicious! You’Ve a won
derful little housekeeper. But I don’t
see how you have time* with all your
work at the office.”
“It doesn’t take so much time. I’ve
learned to get my breakfast i~ * *"
minutes, and I wash the dishe
I’m getting dinner. During th
dc
I don't ti
dusting. But S;
give the whole pi
over, f^ast Sati
half-past 1. put
and went to wc
dc
rdav I
b
1 wa
I kitc hen and all. r I
laid down, rested
I woke up feeling
j hape jou like m
t hrough
st in twenty
when
week
Adept
afternoons I
>rough going
not home at
old- wrapper
was after 5
bathroom,
I took a bath,
ad hour and
fine. Per-
salad
f^.oil in your sal;
dressing?"
“No, this is just right And you're
never lonely or afraid?"
“I haven’t time to be lonely, and
that young girl is here at night. She’s
a telephone operator. Poor child, she
only gets $8 a week. I don’t see how
she lives on it I hope they will
make that $9 minimum wage law. I
don’t believe this girl has enough to
eat half the time. I can’t bear to see
her go out of here without break
fast, so I’ve been giving her a cup of
coffee and a roll She’s studying
shorthand so she can get a better po
sition. Oh, 1 didn't tell you that I
was studying Spanish."
"You very wonderful person!"
laughed Helen. "Now, when do you
find time to study Spanish?"
"Two evenings a week. You know
there’s a great demand for Spanish
stenographers. Use this for your but
ter I haven’t any bread and butter
plates yet."
“And you mean to say you cqme
from the office, get your dinner and
then go out to take Spanish les
sons?"
"Yes, but of course on those even
ings I don't try to have much dinner.
Fsually 1 just beat up an omelette—
that’s quick and easy.”
“Well, my dear, there isn’t one girl
in a thousand that would have had
the courage and energy to do what
you’re doing. I think you can afford
to be very prhud of it."
, “I am." laughingly, "and I love to
feel that I’ve done it all myself. Sat
urday afternoon when I got through
cleaning and laid clown to rest. I felt
| that I was about the happiest, the
I mo.it inde pendent and most self-satis-
| bed young woman in New York.”
Helen watched her almost enviously
as she cleared away the salad plate?
j am 1 brought on a little bowl of fruit
I jelly with w hipped cream. Shu knew
what the feeling of independence, "of
having done it all herself,” must
mean.
She thought of the time when War
ren was out West, when things were
at the worst between them, when she
felt she would soon be thrown on her
own resources. How helpless and ter
rified that she was so incapable of
making her own living.
How many women, she wondered,
stay with their husbands for the sim
ple* reason that they can not support
themselves. This was a humiliation
that Laura Wilson could never know,
she had proven so superbly that she
could make her own way. Should she
marry now, the man would know he
could hold her only through love and
not merely because he supported her.
"Don’t you like fruit jelly?” dlsap- I
pointedly, for Helen was toying ab
sently with her spoon.
"Oh, yes! I was only thinking,'
wistfully, “how wonderful it must be
for any woman to feel that she’s so |
capable—that whatever happens she I
can always be independent. ’
Not Fashionable.
"What you need, madam, is oxygen.
Come every afternoon for your inhala- j
tions. They will cost you $4 each.’’
"I knew that other doctor didn’t un
derstand my case, - ' declared the fash
ionable patient. "He told me all I
needed was plain, fresh air."
Dr. Palmer's
Skin Whitener
Will Lighten
Any Dark Complexion
T TS EFFECT is marvel-
•I ous upon a very dark
or sallow skin. You can
not realize what it will do
until you have used it.
Guaranteed pure and harm
less. Priee, large box 25e,
postpaid anywhere.
FOR SALE BY
All Jacobs’ Stores
And Druggists Generally. *
KODAKS
“Th« B««t FHilthlnf and Sal art-I
(nt That Cao Be Pnxtami* *
Eastman Films and oaa-
piete atock amateur auppllcm
Quick mail service for out-of-tewn rusttunera.
Send for Catalog and Prlca List.
A. K. HAWKES CO. K D °£S£
14 Whitehall St. Atlanta, Qa.
BRING YOUR FILMS TO US
and we will d evelop them free. We are film specialists
and give you perfect results and quick delivery. Mall
us negative for free sample print. Enlargements made
and colored Pictures framed. Chemicals. Camera#,
$3.00 to $85.00.
Freeh films to fit any camera*—guaranteed not to stick
,iu *v i ue for catalogue. Quick m all order service.
E. H. CONE, Inc., “A Good Drug Store"—(Two Stores)—Atlanta.
r