The Augusta herald. (Augusta, Ga.) 1914-current, March 15, 1914, Home Edition, Page FIVE, Image 13

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SUNDAY. MARCH 15. $~~S6e DAY OF April 80 Deya 14 PROLOGUE. "it breaks the speed limit to smithereens." That's a candid opinion about this story. There may have been swifter tales, but not re cently. It’s an aeroplane of a yarn, moving so fast that you lose your breath while you fol low it. But you don't need any breath, anyway, because you for get about respiration with\ your eyes on reading of this kind. Every man has his day of days. Yours may have come and you may be swimming in the full tide of fortune. If so, read how P Sybarite found his. If your own ship is s!ill in the offing, you will enjoy learning how the little spunky red headed bookkeeper won a fortune and an heiress, foiled all his enemies and had some of the most amating ad ventures ever penned —all in less time than if takes the hour hand to round th < e’oek dial twice. (Continued from Yesterday) She recognized him. with surprise, hut none the less with n friendly smile "Why, Mr. Sybnrite”- In his hearing her voice was rarest music. He gulped, stammered. “Miss r.esslng!” and was stricken dumb by realization of his effrontery. "Can 1 do anything for you?” He breathed In panic, "Gloves"— “For a lady. Mr. Sybarite?” He nodded as expressively as any automaton. “What kind?" “I—l don’t know." “For day or evening wear?" He wagged a dismal head. “I don't know.” Amr .ement touched her eyes and lips so charmingly that he thought of the sea at dawn, rimpled by the morn ing breeze, gay with the laughter of young sunlight. •‘Oh. I see. You wish to make a present. Evening gloves are always acceptable. Does she go often to the tkeater?” “X—don’t know.” “Well—is she old or young?” “I—ah—couldn't say.” “Mr. Sybarite!" said the young wo man. with decision. He fixed an apprehensive gaze to hers, which Inclined to disapproval. If with reservations. “Yes. Miss Lessing?” “Do you really want to buy gloves?" “No-o." “Then what under the sun do you want?" He noticed suddenly that however Impatient her tone, her eyes were still kindly. Eyes of luminous bnzel brown they were, wide open and clear be neath dark and delicate brows; eyes that assorted oddly with her hair of pale, dull gold, rendering ber prettiness both individual and distinctive. Somehow he* found himself more at ease. “Please,” be begged humbly, "show me some gloves—any kind—lt doesn't matter—and pretend you believe i want to buy ’em. I don’t really. I—l only want—a—ah—word with you before you go home.” If this were impertinence the girl elected quickly not to resent It. She turned to the shelves behind ber, took down a box or two and opened them for hls Inspection. "These are very nice," she suggested quietly. “I think so too.” He grinned un easily. “What I want to say is—will you be my guest at the theater to night?" “I’m afraid I don’t understand you," she said, replacing the gloves. “With Miss Prim and George Bross.” he amended hastily. “Somebody—n friend—sent me a box for ‘Kismet.’ J thought possibly you might care to go It—lt would give me great pleasure." Miss Lessing held up another pair of gloves. “These are $3.59,” she said absently. ‘•Why did you come here to ask me?" “I—l was afraid you might make some other engagement for the even ing.” Hs couldn't have served hls cause more handsomely than by uttering Just that transparent evasion. In a thought she understood; at their boarding house he could have found no ready opportu nity to ssk her save In the presence of others, and he was desperately appre hensive lest she refuse. After all, he bad reason to be: they were only table acquaintances of a few weeks' standing. It was most pre sumptuous of him to dream that she would accept On the other hand, he was Isbe con sidered gravely) a decent, manly little body. “It’s sp good of you to think of me,” DAYS By LOUIS JOSEPH VANCC Cop\right. I<H2, b> Hie Prank A Munsey Co ahe aatd "Yon roAin that you—you will come?" he cried, transported. "I shall be very glad." "That's—that's iiwfly good of you." he said huskily. "Now. do please find some way to get rid of mo." Smiling quietly, the girl recovered the glove boxes. "I'm afraid we haven't wlint you want In stock." she sold In a voice not loud, hut clear enough to carry to the ears of her Inquisitive colaborers "We're expecting n fresh shipment In next week —ls you could stop In then." “Thank you very much," said I’ Ryh arite with uncalled for emotion He backed away awkwardly, spoiled the effect altogether by lifting his Imt. wheeled and broke for the doors and won his way through them a single in stant before they closed. CHAPTER 11. A Likely Story. FROM the squalor, the heat, dirt and turmoil of Lightb avenue. I*. Sybarite turned west oil Thirty-eighth street to seek his boarding house. This establishment—between whicli and the cave of the smell. Ids existence alternated with the monotony of a pendulum—wus situuted midway on the block on the north side of the atreet. It boasted a front yard fenced off from the sidewalk with a rusty railing; a plot of arid earth scantily tufted with grass, suggesting that stage of baldness which finally precedes com plete nudity. Behind tills the moat like aren was spanned to the front door by a ragged stoop of hrownstone. The bouse romance took the air upon the stoop. George Bross was 8.1 per centum of the house romance. The remainder was Miss Violet Prim. Mr. Bross sat a step or two below Miss Prim, his knees ad.lacent to bis chin, his face, upturned to ills charmer, wreathed In a fond and fatuous smile. Saturday was her day for seeming unusually fair to him: by the following Thursday there would begin to be a barely perceptible shadow round the roots of her golden hair. Normally good looking in ordinary daylight, she was a radiant beauty across footlights. Her active young person was modeled on generous lines, and. as a rule, clothed In a manner which. If Inexpensive, detracted noth ing from ber conspicuous sightliness. P. Sybarite approached the gnte. At that moment George was announcing in an undertone. “Here’s the lollop now. Think I better spring it on him now?” he inquired, in doubt. “Gee. no!” protested the lady in alarm. “It’d spoil the plant, sure. I’d love to watch you feed It to him. but heaven knows I'd never be able to hold In without bustin'.” P. Sybarite walked Into the front yard, and the chorus lady began to crow with delight. “Well, look who’s here! 'Tis old George W. Postscript—as I live! Hith erwards. little one: I would'st speech myself to thee.” Smiling, P. Sybarite approached the pair. He liked Miss Prim for her un affected high spirits. “Well?" he asked pleasantly, blink ing up at the Indy from the foot of the steps. “What is thy will, O Breaker of Hearts?" "That'll be about all for yours." an nounced Violet reprovingly. “What’s all this about you givin' a box party at the Knickerbocker tonight?" “It's a fact.” affirmed P. Sybarite. “Only I had counted on the pleasure of Inviting you myself.” he added with a patient glance at George. “Never mind about that.” Interposed the lady. “I'm Just tickled to death, and I love you a lot more’n 1 do George, anyway. So that’s all right. Only I was afraid for awhile he was connin’ me." Then she Jumped up and wheeled about to the door with petticoats pro fessionally awhlrl. “Well, If I'm goln' to do a stagger in society tonight, it's me to go doll myself up to the nines. So long!" She disappeared by way of the vestibule. “Clnss to that kid. all right." observ ed George "Some stepper, take It from me. But I’m glad It’s a box; then I can hide under a chair. I ain't got nothin’ to go In but these hand-me downs.” What are you going to wear, anyway?” “A shave, clean collar and what I stand in They’re all 1 have.” “Then you got nothin' on me. What's your rush?" ns P. Sybarite would have passed on “Walt a shake. 1 wanna talk to you. Sit down and have a eig.” There was a bint of serious Inten tion In the manner of the shipping clerk to Induce P. Sybarite, after the hesitation of aD Instant, to accede to hls request "Wei!?” “I dunno how to break It to you." Bross faltered dubiously. “You better brace yourself to lean up against the biggest disappointment ever.” ... . P. Sybarite regarded him with sliarp distrust. "You interest me strangely, George. But perhaps you're no more addled than usual. Get it off your chest" "Well," said George regretfully. "1 Just wanna put you next to the fncts before you ask her Miss leaning ain't goln' to go with um tonight" |». Sybarite looked startled and grtov i "I'm afraid I don't understand. How do you know Miss Lessing won't go? I)ld she tell you so?" "Not what you might call exactly, but she won't, all right," George re turned, with coulldence. "There ain't one chance In a hundred Pm In wrdng " "In wrong? How?" "About her being who she Is" P. Sybarite subjected the open, naive countenance of the shipping clerk to n prolonged stare of suspicion "No; 1 ain’t crazy In the head nei ther," (ieorge asseverated, with some heat "I suspldoned something was queer about that girl right along, but now I know It. 1 don't s'pose you seen the evenin' paper?" "No”- "Well. I picked up the Stnr down to Clancy's. This Is It." With an effec tive flourish George drew the sheet from his coHt pocket. "And soon's I seen that." he added. Indicating a smudged half tone, "1 begun to wise jup to that little girl It’s sore some shame about her. nil right, all right.” Taking the paper. P. Sybarite exam ined with perplexity n portrait labeled "Marian Blesslngton." Whatever Its original aspect, the coarse luesh of th» reproducing process had blurred It to a vague presentment of the head and shoulders of almost auy young woman with fair hair and regular features, only a certain, almost Indefinable Indi j vldunllty In the pose of the heud ren dered It dimly suggestive' of Molly I Lessing. Attached to It was; Marian Blesslngton. only daughter of the lata Nathaniel lllessington. millionaire founder of the great Btoaslijgton chain of department stores. Although much sought after on account of the Immense property Into control of which she Is to come on , the twenty-fifth birthday. Miss Blessing ton contrived to escape matrimony entan glements until last January, when Brian Shaynon, her guardian and executor of ; tha Blesslngton estate, gave out the an nouncement of her engagement to his son. Bayard Shaynon. This engagement was whispered to be j distasteful to the young woman, who Is i noted for her Independent and spirited na- AlßdaJO “It’s sure some shame about her all right.’' ture. anil It Is now persistently being ru mored that she has demonstrated her dis approval by disappearing mysteriously from the knowledge of her guardian. It is said that nothing has been known of her whereabouts since about the Ist of March, when she left her home In the Bhaynon mansion on Fifth avenue osten sibly for a shopping tour. This was flatly contradicted this morn ing by Brian Bhaynon, who declared that hls ward sailed for Europe Feb. 28 on the Mauretania and has since been In con stant communication with her betrothed and hls family. He also denied having employed detectives to locate hls ward. The sailing list of the Mauretania falls to give the name of Miss Blessington on the date named by Mr. Shaynon. Refolding the paper. P. Sybarite re turned It without comment. “Ain’t you hep yet?” George be trayed some little exasperation, mixed with hls disappointment. He slapped the folded paper resoundingly In the palm of hls hand. “You ain’t dropped to the resemblance between Molly Les sing and Marian Blessington?” "Between Miss Lessing and that portrait?" asked P. Sybarite. "Why, they’re dead ringers for each other. Any one what can't see that la blind.” "But I’m not blind." “Well, then you gotta admit they look alike as twins”— "But I’ve known twins who didn’t look alike." “Ah. nix on the stallin'!" George insisted, on the verge of losing Ida temper. "Molly Lessing’s the splt’n’ Image of Marian Blessington—and you know it What's more—look at their names, Molly for Mary—yon make that? Mary and Marian’s near enough alike, ain’t they? And what’s Lesaing but Blessington. docked goln’ and corn in’?” "Walt a second. If I understand yon. George, you’re trying to Imply that Miss Lessing Is Identical with Marian Blessington.' “You said somethin', then, all right. !t’s plain's daylight. When did Miss Lessing come here? live weeks ago. to a day—March foist or close on to It —Just when the paper says she did her disappearin' stunt How you goln’ to get_around that?’ (To Be Continued Tomorrow.) THE AUGUSTA HERALD, AUGUSTA. GA. / excuse Me i | /hank- Y* sot \ f what do You i m>sTA knocked that ) i PaTHM’ J \ irus- Bi<*- / \ Thins- off with 4, \terv*cc6b. / roooh cqv* boV cibow 7 <T '■ ' MK6 - T '^ T ,NTO / 5) lltK ST. Seoß6C^flND ,, ‘THe. bßoooN jS The. Borning op Rome-j ~A Tk I r~ hKT: afv " Lt ~ V ~ ~ J C imtM IT S ALL RIGHT IN THE MOVIES IN “REEL” LIFE IN REAL LIFE FIVE