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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. 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