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Show only just. It would never do fo her tcbe linked to a deceiving drunkard. drunk-ard. Bones lounged lazily where I Isad left . him. As I entered he looked up hopefully and grunted: "Well?" "Look here, old man," I said, shaking shak-ing a finger in his face, "have you been drinking?" "Not on your life." "Never touched a drop?" I continued sternly eyeing him. "I swear it." "Something's up for , a fact, then! She swears she saw you drinking. Said she saw you with her own eyes in the midst of a crowd on the campus singing a drunken song and raising the devil generally." Bones started up, grasping the arms of his chair tightly. "See here! When was this?" he demanded. "Tuesday night," I believe." Bones sprang for the door, grubbing his hat on the way, and be:o:o I could frame a question was sailing down the hali like a maniac on deviltry bent. Perplexed, I sat for several moments mo-ments staring dully at the floor. I had a notion of following and watching watch-ing developments, but recalling my unfinished studies I sat once again at my desk and pored over the books for the next three hours. Bones was not down to lunch. No one seemed able to tell where he was, but while strolling about the campus after dinner I ran across a student who said he had seen Bones going off toward the links shortly before, and I H " A College Episode By DON CLARK WILSON. Jl I walked off in the direction indicated. indi-cated. The old moon was riding just over a fringe of pines when I saw a silhouette silhou-ette loom against his face and recognized recog-nized in the broad shoulders of the figure the man I was seeking. It was dark where he was, and I could see only his head and shoulders. I approached, ap-proached, but suddenly stopped whefl within a few feet, for I heard a voice and it was Bones'. "Drunk?" he laughed, in a gay manner man-ner which did my solicitous heart good. "Why, you silly, don't you know I never, never drink?" "Well, sir," stammered a voice sweet as a lark's, "your conduct was sur- prisingly unconventional, and an ex-; planation is due. 'Fess up, sir!" "Nothing much to explain," replied Bones. "We were rehearsing the drinking song in 'Faust' for the classman's class-man's play." ' t-. "But why rehearse under the trees ' on the campus, and at such an nn- '. seemly hour?' she persisted. "Why7 :. Bones ambled into my room and threw himself- into a chair with the air of one, to whom life is an insupportable insup-portable burden. Then drawing a big deep breath into his big, deep chest he blurted out: "Damn it!" I tossed Cicero across the room, swept aside my examination manuscript, manu-script, and demanded: "What's- up. Bones?" "Search me!", "Come!" I insisted. "Something is amiss. What it is?" "Everything! " 4 "Be explicit." 1 . , , ; "Know Myrtle?" "Of course I do, confound you," impatiently. im-patiently. "Kuow how she abhors booze?" I did. "That's it," said Bones, lucidly. "She's, tossed m--jAKsays. she -can never put up with a dYunk." "But you "never drink." "Of course not. But look at this," tossing a folded slip of paper onto my desk languidly, as though the effort ef-fort was a "sacrifice: "Confound the women, anyway!" '.'Mr. Melville," the letter ran, "consider "con-sider our former intimacy at an end. I can never reconcile myself to friendship friend-ship with a drunkard." It was signed simply "Myrtle Morrison." "Chilly, ain't it?" snorted Bones, when I had finished reading it and slowly folded the missive in my hand. "Never can tell what a woman's up to next. Something funny about this. I never drink. What got her into the notion that I'm a drunk; I wonder?" "I confess I don't know," I replied, and studied Bones' handsome face, while he stared gloomily out of the window. He was sorely distressed. His attachment at-tachment for Miss Morrison was the result of a meeting on the golf links must have cost Miss Morrison a struggle strug-gle to write such a letter, too, for she certainly loved Bones with all the strength of her pure nature. I don't like to confess it, but I've eavesdropped eaves-dropped once or twice, and ought to know. Moonlight on the links in June is something a healthy man wants to avoid if he has no notion of matrimony, matri-mony, and many a moonlight night -had found them .enmeshed in the rhapsody rhap-sody of romance while the' caddy stole, off to his home in the dale. .. . --Bones' was not of that nature to confide in me to the extent of his love affairs, even though I was his closest friend; but I understood, and the matter was tacitly acknowledged. Bones was silent, and I said Both-"tng Both-"tng for several moments. Then on a sudtien-&pulse I snatched my hat and made for the ooxh "Where's you goTnss! grtntiad- Bones. "See you later," I retorted, and sped down" the hall at double-quick, heading for the ladies' dormitory across the campus. The matron took my card up and presently returned, directing me to Miss Morrison's room. I sprang up the stairs three steps at a bound and rapped on Myrtle's door. There was a subdued flurry within as of clothing being thrown about and of doors being quickly but quietly closed and then a voice scarcely above a whisper bade me enter. Which I did. She sat by a window, palpably ill at ease, but trying to appear calm and collected. Her eyes were red with weeping and her cheeks flushed. .The room was not completely in- order, either, although it was all beautiful and cleverly decorated with the panels pan-els and profusion of pillows all girls like. "You?" she exclaimed as I entered. ' What can you want with me?" "4 rather delicate matter Miss Mor- She sat by a window, palpably ill at ease. did you not use the auditorium, as sane people would?" "Oh," laughed Bones, "the janitors were sweeping in the auditorium." There was a kind of a rustle then, which the breeze was in no wise accountable ac-countable for, and a subdued smack,, and I stole away. V--- rison." I began, assuming a pose of the God of Love, like I had seen in the museum. "I come in Mr. Melville's Mel-ville's behalf." "I think, sir, your Business is already al-ready done," she said in a chilly way, looking out the window with her superb su-perb chin in her hand. "Mr. Melville and I are strangers." I "You accuse him of drunkenness." "I do. My eyes do not deceive me." "You really saw him drunk, eh?" "I did, sir brutally drunk." I felt a wave of indignation spread ; over me. "I leg 5'Our pardon, Miss Morrison," I said, "but you are mistaken. I've known Bones Mr. Melville for ten years, and have never yet seen him inebriated or even heard of his drinking. drink-ing. Will you tell me when and under un-der what circumstances you saw him in such a condition?" "Then you cannot take my word, sir?" she cried. "You would cast insinuations? in-sinuations? I know what my eyes tell me, sir! He was drinking, Mr. Kittering brutally, vulgarly drinking, and singing a wild drunken song x the midst of a crowd of other inebriated inebri-ated students on the campus last Tuesday Tues-day night! I know, sir! f saw him! He's a brute, and I'm done with him forever!" This was dangerously near hysteria. She rose as she spoke and prodded the carpet with her dainty heel. Without, further words I left the room, determined to seek an explanation explana-tion or a confession from Bones. If he was guilty the girl's treatment was With the air of one to whom life is ! an insupportable burden. the previous season, aud the dawn of the new season found them most devotedly de-votedly intimate so intimate that an engagement was vaguely rumored among the feminine element at school and lightly joshed about by the classmen class-men over glasses and cigars. The two were alluded to as the Gibson Gib-son duo, the one for her clear-cut, imperious beauty, the other for his rugged chin, his broad shoulders and rather morose forehead, and they seemed by all common law fpted to mate and live happily ever after. It |