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Show TIH! BPANTSTT PORK PRESS, RPANTSTT FORK. UTA!I. in Knickers 0 t H & Knee-Dee- p a aitai eicvnesney was busily to a aleck llttla stenographer. "'Morning!" said Emm McChesney, looking up briefly. "B with you la a Biinut. , , and In reply would say w regret that you have bad iroublu with No. 321. It la latpon-Ibito avoid putting at tbo seams la tba lower grads silk skirts when they are made up In ths present scant stylo. Our Mr, Hpaiding warned you of this at tba time of your purchase. Wo will not under any circumstances consent to receive ths goods If they ro sent back on our bands. Yours sincerely, Thatll be all. Mia Casey," 8hs swung around to faco her visitor as the door dosed. If T. A. Duck looked ten years younger than he had the afternoon before, Emma McChesney undoubtedly looked five years older. There were little, worried, sagging lines about her eyes and mouth. T. A. Buck's eyes bad followed the sheaf of signed correspondence, end the well Riled pad of more recent dictation which the sleek little stenographer had carried away with her. "Good lerd! It looka as though you bad stayed down here all night." Emma McChesney smiled a little wearily. "Not quite that. But 1 waa here this morning In time to greet the night watchman. Wanted to get my mall out of the way," Her eyes searched T. A. Buck's serene face. Then she leaned forward, earnestly. "Haven't you seen the morning pa- lore, SZS28ZS2S2SZS2S2SZSZSZS282SZSZSZS2SZS28ZS8SZ82S2S2S: oio-tsitn- s A Dvalnea Adventure Du EDNA Aul ef 'Dnm 07 Am, of Emma McChesney FEimm Butltnd SJ Dm, Si ete. ClirniH f Mml Mr. McChesney, sweetly. "And now U'i time to tty the Impossible The When th column of figure under tba bending known M "Profita," and tb column of figure under (ba beading known aa "Loan ara to unevenly balanced Utat fba wrong alda of (ba ledger aagi, Iban to tba liatenlng stockholders there cornea tba painful thought that at the neat regular meeting It la perilously poetlble that tba reading may come under the beada of aaaeta and liabilities. There bad been n meeting In the offlcea of the T. A. liuck Featherloom Petticoat company. New York. The quarterly report bad bad e atartlingly aound. After It waa over lop-aide- Mr. Emma klcCbeaney, aecreury of the company, followed T. A. Iluck, tta president, Into the big, bright show-roo- T. A. Duck's banda were thrust deep Into hla pocketa. lie turned to face Emma McChes-ne- y. -- Well,he aald. bitterly, lt haun t taken ua long, baa It? Father's been In that dead a little over e year. time we've Just about run tbla great coLcern, the pride of bia life, into the ground." Mrs. Emma McChesney, calm, cool, unruffled, scrutinized the baraaaod man before her for a long minute. "What rotten football material you would have made, wouldn't you?" abo observed. "Oh, 1 don't know," anawered T. A. Puck, through bla teeth. "I can ataud aa stiff a acrlmmage aa the nest one. Hut tbla lan't a game. You take tbinga too lightly. You're a woman. I don't think you know what tbla tncana." "Maybe ! don't take myaelf serious-ly- . I'd have been dead ten yearn ago If I had. Hut I do take my Job Don't forget that for a minute. You talk the way a man alwaya talks when hla pride la hurt" serl-oual- y. that" "Pride! It Isn't "Oh, yes. It Is. didn't sell T. A. petticoats on the road for almost ten years without learning a little something about men and business. When your father died, and 1 learned that be bad shown bla appreciation of my work and loyalty by making me secretary of this great company, I didn't think of it aa a legacy a stroke of good fortune." 1 Duck's featherloom Nor Blnety-ftve- form-buggin- g They wero both laughing now, like a couple of children. "And, oh, say!" gasped Emma, "remember Moe of the Skirt company, trying to get the doctors to state that bobble skirts were making women Oh, mercy!" But their laugh ended In a little rueful silence. It was no laughing matter, this situation. T. A. Buck shrugged his shoulders, and began a restless pacing up and down. "Yep. There you are. Meanwhile" "Meanwhile, women are still wear Ing 'em tight, and going petticoatless." Suddenly T. A. stopped short In his pacing and fastened his surprised and interested gaze on the skirt of the trim and correct little business frock that sat so well upon Emma McChes-ney'pretty figure. Why, look at that!" he exclaimed, and pointed with one eager finger. Se-ll- g Fine-For- knock-kneed- ! No. fo me It waa a aacred trust something to bo guarded, nursed, cherished. And now you say we've run this concern Into the ground. Do you honestly think that?" ' T. A. shrugged Impotent shoulders. "Figures don't He." He plunged into another fathom of gloom. "Another year like this and we're done for." Emma McChesney came over and put one firm hand on T. A. Duck's drooping shoulder. It was a strange little act for a woman the sort of thing a man does when he would hearten another man. Wake up!" she said, lightly. Wake up, and listen to the birdies sing. There Isn't going to be another year like this. Not if the planning, and that I've scheming, and been doing for the last two or three months mean anything." T. A. Duck seated himself as one who Is weary, body and mind. "Got another new one?" Emma McChesney regarded him a moment Then she thoughtfully. stepped to the tall show case, pushed back the sliding gloss door, and pointed to the rows of brilliant-huepettiwithin. coats that hung "Look at 'em! she commanded, disgust In her voice. "Look at 'em!" T A. Buck raised heavy, eyes and looked. What he saw did sot seem to interest him. Emma drew from the rack a skirt of king's blue satin tnessaline and held it at arm s length. Ana they call that thing a petticoat! Why, fifteen years ago the material in this skirt wouldn't have made brain-rackin- g d close-packe- d lack-luste- r sleeve." even a T. A. Duck regarded the petticoat "I dont see how they get moodily. around in the darned things. 1 honestly don't see how they wear em." "That's Just it They don't wear 'em. There you have the root of the whole trouble" Oh, nonsense! disputed T. A. "They certainly wear something some sort of 'I tell you they don't. Here. Listen. Three yearB ago our taffeta skirts to thirty-eigh- t ran from thirty-siyards to the dozen. We paid from ninety cents to one dollar and five tents a yard. Now our skirts run from to twenty-eigh- t yards to twenty-fiv- e the dozen. The silk costs us from fifty to sixty cents a yafd. Silk skirts used to be a luxury. Now theyre not even fair-size- d an" x A haven't worked. possibilities My land! 1 could writ a book on tbw decline and fall of the petticoat, beginning with the billowy white mue-llvariety, and working up to the present slinky tnessaline affair. When 1 think of those dear days of the glorious er past, when the hired girl used to complain and threaten to leav because every woman In the family had at least three ruffled, embroidery-flounced white muslin petticoats on the line on Mondays" The lines about T. A. Buck's mouth relaxed Into a grim smile. "Remember that feature you got them to run In the Sunday Sphere? The one headed 'Are Skirts Growing filler, and Where? " "Ito I remember It!" wailed Emma McChesney. "And cun 1 ever forget the money we put Into that fringed model w called the Curmenclla! We made It up so it could retail for a , dollar and I could have worn that the women would malm each other to get to It. But it didn't go. They won't even wear fringe around their ankles" T. A.'s grim smile stretched Into a reminiscent grin. "But nothing In our wbolo hopeless campaign could touch your Municipal Purity league agitation for the abolition of the skirt You talked public moral until you had A. Comstock and Lucy Page Gaston looking like Parisian apaches." A little laugh rippled Up to Emma McChesney' Bps only to die away to a sigh. She shook her head In sorrowful remembranro. "Yes. But what good did it do? The newspapers and magazines did take It up, but what happened? The dressmakers and tailors, who are charging more than ever for their work, and putting In half as much material, got together and knocked my plans Into a cocked hat" IWlAABail'V ' Ive Well, what's the answer? been pondering some petticoat problems myself. I know we've got to sell three skirts today to make the profit that we used to make on one three years ago." T. A. rose as wearily as he had sat down Even the most optimiBtic of watchers could have discerned no gleam of enthusiasm on his face. "I thought," he said listlessly, "that you and I had tried every possible scheme to stimulate the skirt trade. "Every possible one, yes," agreed s fresh-nes- school.'1 "Fine! beamed Emma McChesney. And Just store that up, will you? dont let it filter out at your finger tips when 1 begin to talk tomorrow. The little scarlet leather clock on Emma McChesneys desk pointed to 9:29 a. m. when there entered her olfice an Immaculately garbed, miraculously shaven, healthily rosy man who looked ten years younger than the harassed, frowning T. A. Buck with whom she had almost quarreled the evening be- youngish-midd- le-aged a next word hla Indignation would brook no barriers. "Now," she went on, "the feature of tbe knickerbockers will bo this: Theyve got to be ready for the boy' spring trip, and in all the larger cities, especially In the bustling middle western towns, and along the coast, too, I'm planning to have th knlekerbock-er- e Introduced at private and exclusive exhibitions, and worn by get this, please worn by living models. ? Half One big store In each town, dozen good looking girls" "Never! shouted T. A Buck, white and shaking. "Never! Thin firm baa always bud a name for dignity, solid- "I'll leave It to you. 1 11 do my zims of th work But I'm not mor tnsa half convinced, remember." "That a enough for ths present," answered Emma McChesney, briskly, "Well, now, suppose ws talk machinery and girls, and cutters for a Nothing out run, and comtort, and trim good baiks," T. A, Buck passed his hand over bis head to a dazed, helpless gesture, There was something pathetic In his utter bewilderment and helplessness In contrast with Emma Mct'hesney's breezy self confidence, and th show girl's coot pots and unconcern. "Watt a minute," b murmured, almost plesdlngty. !et m ask a couwill of questions, your ple A hundred. That "Questions? prove you arc Interested." "Well, then, let m ask this young first on. Miss er I lady th Noyes, do you honestly and truly Ilk this garment? Would you buy one If you saw It In a shop wlmlow?" Miss lot Noyes answer rain trite Bit plngly and without hesitation. did not even have to feel of her bark whil." hair first "Bay, I'd go without my lunch for It. Mrs. McChesney says 1 can have this pair. I can't wait till our prims donns sees 'em. Bite'll bat tn till sbe's got s dozen Ilk 'em," Nezt!" urged Mrs. McChesney, pleasantly. But T. A Burk shook bis head. a week to get "Tbsts all Only" Emma McChesney patted Miss La Noyes lightly on the shoulder, and coat" T. A. Duck eyed the garments with a grudging admiration. "Oh, that part of it don't sound so unreasonable, although 1 don't believe there is much of a demand for that kind 'of thing. Dut the other the the kmckerbocker things thats not even practical. It will make an ugly garment, and the women who would fall for a fad like that wouldn't be of the sort to wear an ugly piece of lingerie. It isn't to be thought of se- riously Emma McChesney stepped to the door of the tiny wash room off her office and threw it open. Miss La Noyes! We're ready for you. And there emerged from the Inner room a trim, lithe, almost boyishly slim figure attired in a bewitchingly skittish-lookingarment consisting of Say, Id Go Without My Lunch Week to Get It." for a Scant, smart, trim little taupe-gratnessaline knickers for a taupe gray suit, blue messaline for blue suits, brown messaline for brown T. A. Duck stared, the paper on which he. had been scrawling fluttering unnoticed to the open-mouthe- knickerbockers and snug brassiere of king's blue satin messaline. Dainty black silk stockings and tiny buckled Slippers set off the whole effect "Miss La Noyes," said Emma McChesney, almost solemnly, "this is Mr. T. A. Duck, president of the firm. Miss La Noyes, of the Gay Social Whirl company. Miss La Noyes bowed slightly and rested one white hand at her side in an attitude of nonchalant ease. "Pleased, Im shaw! she said, In a clear, high voice. And, Charmed," replied T. A. Duck, his years and breeding standing him "Is "Look hero! he interrupted. in good stead now. this supposed to be humorous?" Emma McChesney laid a kindly And, went on Emma McChesney, hand on the "Turn girl's shoulder. calmly, "In our full and complete, not slowly, please. Observe the absence to say nifty line of women's pajamas of unnecessary fullness about the hips, pink pajamas, blue pajamas, violet pa- or at the knees. No wrinkles to show jamas, yellow pajamas, white silk" there. No man will ever appreciate T. A. Duck stood up. "I want to fine polnt3 of this little garment the are jestsay," be began, "that if you but the women! ing, I think this is a mighty poor time "Do you mean to tell me, burst I can if to joke. And you are serious T. A. Buck, "that the long-pen- t from only deduce from it that this year of wear em too?" you has business worry and responsibility Crazy about em. Miss La Noyes, been too much for you. I'm sure hat will you just slip on your street skirt if you were" "That's all right," interrupted Em- please? She waited in silence until the dema McChesney. "Dont apologize. I Miss La Noyes reappeared. A mure purposely broke it to you this way, straight-hanginwrinkleless narrow, 1 when might have approached it gencovered the much discussed skirt cloth I knew Youve what done Just tly. Turn slowly, please. youd do, so it's all right. After youve undergarment. You see, Mr. Buck? Not a Thanks. chumsort of and it got over, thought wrinkle. No bunchiness. No lumps. my with the idea, you'll be just as No crawling up about the knees. keen on it as I am. floor. stan When do you "Morning! , A. Buck. "Hear about Spalding?" be demand ed. "Bpaldlng? No." "Ills wife phoned from Bt Luke's Taken with an appendicitis attack a midnight They operated at five thk On of those bad lt been morning. operations That settles us." "Poor kid." replied Emma McChes ney, "Rough on him and LI brand . new wife." "Poor kid! Ye. Dut how abou How about our nev his territory? line? How about" "Oh, that's all right," aald Emmi McChesney, cheerfully. Td like to know how! We haven a man equal to the territory, lie's ots " g middle-wester- out?" sbo asked him. "la tba morning, Gad, that's aomt to spread it tin, what? Im itching Mrs You'r certainly a wonder-childMcChesney. Why, tba boy Emma MeCbesney sighed, somberly "That line doe sort of well, tug a your heart strings, doesn't It?" A eight tbo next morning there burs upon Mrs. McChesney a distracted T s shell-pin- Two months later found T. A Burk and bis sab manager, both both smoking nervously, as they marked, ticketed, folded, aw ranged, They were getting out th t re voters spring line, Entered Mrs, McChesney, and stood eyeing them, worriedly. It wa her dosenth visit to tbo stock room that morning. A trsng restlessness aeemed to trouble her. Hh wandered from ofllca t show room, from ahow room to fao tory. "Wbat'a tho trouble?" Inquired T A. Buck, squinting up at her througt a cloud of cigar amok. "Oh, nothing," answered Mra. Mo Cbesney, and atood fingering tba pile of glistening satin garments, a queer, faraway look In her eye. Then sht turned and walked listlessly toward Tber she encountered tba door. Bpaldlng Billy Bpaldlng of tbo eov eted territory, lllllj tho long headed, quick Bpaldlng, thinking; Bpaldlng th porsuaalva Bpaldlng th mixer, Bpaldlng on wbon depended tho fat of th T. A. Duel featherloom knlckerbocker and pa jama. shirt-sleeve- a "Plaits! after kntik-ertxMkr- h "Mercy!" screamed ney. "What is It? Quick! A mouse?" T. A. Buck shook his head, impaMouse! Lord, no! rialts!" tiently. good-lookin- never win approve UP r "Olt, yes, you will It's tbe end of it that era res you. Nothing new or tartling about pajamas, except that mors and more women are wearing 'em, and that no girl would dream of going away to school without her alx arts of pajamas. Why, a girl In a regulation nightie at ono of their midnight spread would he ostracized. Of course I've thought up a couple of new kinks In 'em new ways of rutting and II that, and there's on model wgsbablo crepe, fur traveling, that doesn't need to be pressed but Ill talk about that later." T. A. Burk waa trying to put In word of objection, but she would have none of It. Hut at Emma McChes-ney'1 ness, conservatism" "Then U'a just about time it lost pers?" "Just a mere glance at 'em. licked that reputation. It's all very well to up Burrows on the way down, and we bang on to your dignity when you're on solid ground, but when you fed got to talking. Wbyf The llasmussen-WelsSkirt com- tbinga slipping from under you tbe Inabilities three thing to do Is to grab on to anything pany has failed. hundred thousand. Assets one hun- that'll keep you on your feet tor dred thousand." while at least I tell you tbo women All the will go wild over the knlckerbocker "Failed! Good God!" Idea, They've been waiting for it" rosy color, all the brisk morning had vanished from bla face. "It's a wildcat scheme," disputed "Failed! Why, girl, I thought that Buck hotly, "It's a drowning man's concern was as solid as Gibraltar." straw, and Just about as bdpfuL I'm He passed a worried hand over his a reasonable man" "All unreasonable men say that, head, "That knocks tbe wind out of smiled Emma McChesney. my sails." "Don't let It Just say that It dlls "I'm a rcnsonullo man. I say. them with a new breeze. I'm all the And heaven knows 1 have the Interest more sure that the time Is ripe for of this Arm at heart But this Is gomy plan." ing too far. If we're going to smash T. A. Buck took from a vest pocket well go decently, and with our name are bad a scrap of paper and a fountain pen, untarnished. Iujanms lid down In bis chair, crossed his enough. But when It comes to the legs, and began to scrawl meaningless firm of T, A. Buck being represented twists and curlycues, as was bia wont by by living model busep-- stalkwhen worried or deeply Interested. ing about In Batin tights like chorus "Are you as sure of this scheme of girls, why" In Emma McChesney' alert, elecyours as you were yesterday?" dozen "Sure," replied Emma McChesney, tric mind there leapt about plana for winning this man over. briskly. "Sartln-sure."Then Are away." "I expected Just this," she said. "Here's the plan. We'll make feath- "And I prepared for it" She crossed erloom petticoats because there still swiftly to her desk, opened drawer, are some women who have kept their and took out flat package. "1 exsenses. But we'll make them as a pected opposition. That's why I bad side line. Tbe thing that baa got to these samples mode up to show you. keep us afloat until full skirts come I designed them mysilf, and tore up in again will be a full and complete SO patterns before 1 struck one that line of womens satin tnessaline knick- suited me. Here are the pajamas." She lifted out erbockers made up to match any suit dainty, or gown, and a full line of pajamas garment, and shook it out before the for women and girls. Get the Idea? eyes of T. A. Buck. "This is the jacket Buttons on the left; see? Instead of tbe right, as It would la a man's garment BeinlsaiP or collar, with knotted soft silk scarf. Oh, it's just a little kink,' but they'll love it They're actually becoming. Ive tried em. Notice the frogs and cord. Pretty neat, yes? Slight flare at the hips. Slakes 'em set and bung right Perfectly straight like a man's Emma McChes- She looked down, bewildered. "Yes. In your skirt. Three plaits at the front left, and three in the back. That's new, isn't it? If outer skirts are being made fuller, then it follows "It ought to follow," interrupted Emma McChesney, "but It doesnt. It These plaits are lags way behind. stitched down. See? That's the fiendishnoss of it. And the petticoat underneath if there is one must be just as smooth, and unwrinkled, and scant as ever. Don't let em fool you. Buck spread his palms with a little gesture of utter futility. Out with your "I'm through. scheme. We're ready for it. It's our last card, whatever it is." There was visible on Emma McChes-ney- s face that little tightening of the muscles, that narrowing of the eyelids which betokens intense earnestness. Not now. Just because it's our last card I want to be sure that I'm playing it well. Ill be ready for you tomorrow morning in my office. Come prepared for the jolt of your young life." For the first time since the beginning of the conversation a glow of new courage and hope lighted up T. A. Duck's features. His fine eyes rested admiringly upon Emma McChesney standing there by the great show case. She seemed to radiate energy, alertness, confidence. "When you begin to talk like that," he said, "I always feel as though I could take hold In a way to make those famous Jobs that Hercules tackled look like little Willie's chores even one best bet" In You Nowl Dad and Both Beliov In You." "I Believe I "Run smiled dazzlingly upon ber. along, little girt You've done beautifully. And many thanks." Miss La Noyes, appearing In another moment dressed for the street, stopped at the door to bestow a frankly admiring smile upon the abstracted president of the company, and a gratesecreful one upon Us pink-cheeke- d tary. "Hope you'll come and see our show You won't know me at 1 wear a blonde wig In the first scene. Third from the left front row." And to Mrs. McChesney: "I cer'nly did hate to gU up so early this morning, but after you're up It And it cer'nly was ain't so fierce. easy money. Thanks." Emma McChesney glanced quickly at T. A., saw that he was pliant enough for the molding process, and deftly began to shape, and bend, and smooth aud pat. Let's sit down, and unravel the kinks In our nerves. Now, if you do favor this now plan oh, I mean after you've given it consideration, and all that! Yes, indeed. But if you do, I think It would be good policy to start the game In say Cleveland. The Kaufman-Outecompany of Cleveland have a big, snappy, store. Well get them to send out announcement cards. Something neat See? Llttlo and flattering-looking- . Scene set to stage all framed up. show a bedroom or boudoir. Then, thin girls, plump girls, short girls, high girls. Theyll go through all the paces. We wont only show the knickerbockers: we demonstrate how the ordinary petticoat bunches and crawls up under the heavy plush and velvet top skirt. Well show 'em in street clothes, evening clothes, afternoon frocks. Each one in a different shade of satin knicker. And silk stockings and cunning little slippers to match. The store will stand for that Its a big ad for them, too. Emma McChesney's hair was slightHer cheeks wero carly tousled. mine Her eyes glowed. "Don't you see! Don't you got It! Can't you feel how the things going to take hold?" By Gad! burst from T. A. Duck, "I'm darned If I dont believe you're right almost But are you sure that you believe" Emma McChesney brought one little white fist down Into the palm of the other hand. "Sure? Why, I'm so sure that when I shut my eyes I can see T. A. Senior sitting over there In that chair, tapping the side of his nose with the edge of his tortoiseshell-rimmed glasses, and nodding his head, with his features all screwed up like a blessed old gargoyle, the way he always did when something tickled htm. That's how sure I am." T. A. Buck stood up abruptly. IIo His face shrugged his shoulders. looked strangely white and drawn. some evening. first, because r "Ob, that's all right" said Mrs. Ml Cbesney again, smoothly. A little Impatient exclamation brote from T. A. Duck. At that Emma Ml Cbesney smiled "I'm going out with that line. Tn going to leavo a trail of pajama ant knickerbockers from Duluth to Can . . ton. A dull "You! No, you won't!" painful red had swept Into T. A Buck' face. It was answered by I flood of scarlet In Mrs. McCbeaney'i . countenance). "I dont get you," she aald. "Tn afraid you don't realize what tbla tr! means. It's going to be a fight They'll have to be coaxed and buliict and cajoled, and reasoned with. Iti going to be a 'show-mtrip." T. A. Buck took a quick step for ward. "That's Just why. 1 won't havt you fighting with buyers, taking theti Insults, kowtowing to them, salving them. It it Isnt womans work." Emma McChesney was sorting thi eentents of her desk with quick, nerv ous fingers. "Ill get the twentieth e' century," she said, over her shoulder "Don't argue, please. If it's no work for a woman then I suppose It follow that I'm unwomanly. For ten year I traveled this country selling T. A Duck's featherloom petticoats. My first trip on the road 1 was In th twenties and pretty, too. I'm a won an of now." She arose, and shut her desk with s bang, locked it, and turned a flushed and beaming face toward T. A. Duck, as ho stood frowning before her. "Your father believed in me from the ground up. We understood each other, he and I. You've learned a lot In the last year and a half, T. A. but there's one thing you havent mastered. When will you learn to believe In Emma McChesney?" She waa out of the office before be had time to answer, leaving him standing there. In the dusk of a late winter evening just three weeks later, a- mar paused at the door of the unllghted of flee marked "Mrs. McChesney. Ilf looked about a moment, as thoug? dreading detection. Then he opened tho door, stepped into the dim quiet of the little room, and closed ths door gently after him. Everything ir the tiny room was qulot, neat, order ly. It seemed to possess something of the character of its absent owner. The Intruder stood there a moment, uncertainly, looking about him. Then he took a step. forward and laid one hand on the back of the empty chair before the closed desk. He shut bis eyes and it seemed that he felt hqr firm, cool, reassuring grip on his fingers as they clutched the wooden chair. The impression was so strong that he kept his eyes shut, .and they were still closed when his volce broke the silence of the dim, quiet little thirty-seve- n - room. ' "Emma McChesney," he was saying t aloud, "Emma McChesney, you great big, fine, brave, wonderful woman, you! I believe in you now! Dad and I both believe In you." , |