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Show By George Barr McCatcheoa WNU Senrlea Copyright, Bel Syndicate Sikes hastened to obey, and returned presently in great excitement. "Say, Ollie," he burst out, "there's a couple of women out here from that gypsy camp. They claim to be fortunetellers. fortune-tellers. One of 'em wants to tell the baby's fortune. She says she knowed a couple of weeks ago that he was going go-ing to be born today, that's what she says." "Well, I'm not going to allow any gypsy woman to go nigh that infant," cried Mrs. Grimes. "She says it ain't necessary to even see the bahy. She says the only reliable re-liable and genuine way to tell a bnby's fortune Is by reading Its father's hand." Mr. Baxter arose. "Bring her In, Joe. Now, don't kick, Serepty. My mind's made up. I'm going to know my son's future." Mr. Sikes rushed from the room. A moment later he returned, followed by two shivering women who stopped Just inside the door. The host, with a nervous sort of geniality, beckoned to the strangers. "Better come down to the fire, Queen," he said. The elder woman fixed a curious look upon Mr. Baxter. "I am the queen of the gypsies, Mister, Mis-ter, but how came you to know It?" she asked In a hoarse, not unmusical voice. "Always best to be on the safe side," said Baxter. "But look here. Do you mean to say, Queen, that you can look at my hand nnd tell what's ahead of my boy upstairs?" "First, you must cross my palm wdth silver." The company drew their chairs closer as Baxter dropped some coins into the gypsy's palm. Silence pervaded per-vaded the room. Every'eye was on the dark, impassive face of the fortuneteller fortune-teller as she seized Ollie's hand and began : "I see a wonderful child. He Is strong and sturdy. I can see this son of yours, mister, as a leader of men. Great honor is In store for him, and great wealth. I see men in uniform following your son many men, mister, mis-ter, and all of them armed. I see hlra as a successful man, as the head of great undertakings. He has been out of college but a few years." "That will please his mother," said Baxter, sniffling. "Sh !" put in Mr. Sikes testily. "I see him," continued the fortuneteller, fortune-teller, "as he Is nearing thirty. Rich, respected and admired. He will have many affairs of the heart. I see two dark women and one, two yes, three fair women." "That would seem to show that he's going to be a purty good-looking sort of a feller, wouldn't It?" said Baxter, proudly. "He will grow up to be the Image of his father, mister." The gypsy leaned back In her chair, spreading her hands in a gesture of finality. "I see no more," she said. "Is that all?" Mr. Baxter sniffed. "Well, Queen, I guess you took us all in purty neatly." Outraged royalty turned on him. "You scoff at me. For that you shall have the truth. All that I have told you will come true. But I did not tell you of the end that I saw for him. Hark ye! This son of yours will go to the gallows. He will swing from the end of a rope for a crime of which he is not guilty." She was-now speaking in a high shrill voice; her hearers sat open-mouthed, as if under a spell that could not be shaken off. "It Is all as plain as the noonday sun. He will never reach the age of thirty. That is all. That Is the end. I have spoken the truth. You forced me to do so. I go." Well, Oliver's got quite a career ahead of him. Can he live up to It? (TO BE CONTINUED.) BORN TO BE HANGED He re's a clever story about a man horn to be hanged before he was thirty for a crime he didn't commit that's the way a gypsy rjueen told his fortune the night he was horn. And what's more, the gypsy queen was rlht; she J was a p;ilm reader who knew her business and wasn't afraid to ad- j mit It. So Oliver's father disap- ! peared and the neighbors cried, "Murder !" And before lonp they also yelled, "Oliver." And finally. Just six days before Oliver's thirtieth birthday came along a lynching bee strung him up. But, just tbe same, all this did not prevent Oliver's getting elected to the state senate and winning a pretty wife and living happily ever after. By fleorge Barr Mc-Cutcheon. Mc-Cutcheon. Enough said! CHAPTER I Oliver, Born in October Oliver October Baxter, Jr., was born in the town of Riimley on a vile October Octo-ber ilny in 1S!)0. Kumley peoyle were divided in their excitement over this event and the arrival of a band of gypsies, camped on the edge of the swamp below the Baxter house. Oliver's parents were prominent in the commercial, social and spiritual life of the town. His father was tbe proprietor pro-prietor of the hardware store, a prominent prom-inent member of the Presbyterian church, and a leader in the local lodge of Odd Fellows. His mother, Mary Baxter, a comely, capable young woman, wom-an, was beloved by all. No finer "youngun" than Oliver October had ever been born, according to Mrs. Serepta Grimes, and Serepta was an authority on babies. It was she who took command of Oliver, bis mother and his father, the house itself, and all that therein was. As the story of Oliver October really begins at 7 o'clock in the evening oi his birthday, we will open the narrative narra-tive with Mr. Joseph Sikes, Mr. Baxter's Bax-ter's old and trusted friend, hovering in solitary gloom over the baseburnet in the sitting room of Baxter's house He was interrupted in his gloomy meditations medi-tations by tbe slamming of the kitcher door. His brow grew dark. This was no time to be slamming doors. Rushing to open the door, he was confronted by a pair of total strangers a tall man with short black whiskers and a frail little woman with red, wind-smitten wind-smitten cheeks. "I am Oliver Baxter's sister," announced an-nounced the woman, "nnd this is my husband, Mr. Gooch. We drove all the way over here from Hopkinsville tc take charge of things for my brother.' "Well, I guess if you are his sister you'd better come into the sitting room and take your things off," said Mr Sikes, leading the way. Mrs. Gooch, having divested herself of coat, scarf, bonnet and overshoes straightened her hair before the looking look-ing glass, while her husband surveyed the room and its contents with the disdainful dis-dainful air of one used to much better things. Gooch typified prosperity of the meaner kind. Over In Hopkinsville he was considered the richest and the stingiest man in town. He was what Is commonly called a "tax shark," deriving de-riving a lucrative and obnoxious income in-come through his practice of buying uj real estate at tax sales and holding il until it was redeemed by the hard pressed owner, or, as it happened in many instances, acquiring the propertj under a provision of the state law then in operation, whereby after a prescribed pre-scribed lapse of time he was enabled to secure a tax deed in his own name No one, not even his fellow churcl: members, had ever been known to gel the better of him. "I shall take charge here," Mrs Gooch announced to Mr. Sikes. "Is ! this the way upstairs?" Mr. Sikes nodded. "But if I wai you," he said, "I'd ask Serepty Grimes before I took charge here." "I will soon get rid of Mrs. Grimes,' said she, tossing her head. As she started to leave the room, ( loud knocking at the front door ros above the howl of the wind. Sikes, re sinning his office as master of cere monies, pushed his way past Mrs Gooch and opened the door to adml a woman and tvo men. The first ti enter the sitting room was a tall mar wearing a thin black overcoat and i high silk hirt. This was Rev. Herber Sage, pastor of the Presbyterian churcl of Rumley. The lady was his wife. The other member of the trio, a fat red-faced, Jolly looking man of inde terminate age, was Silas Link, tin undertaker, uuholsterer and liverymai of Rumley "Reverentf Sage was a good-looklni young man of thirty, threadbare and : trifle wan, with kindly brown eyes se deep under a broad, intelligent brow His wife was, surprisingly enough, handsome, dashing young woman. Sh was tall, willowy and startling. Sli wore a sealskin coat at least it looke like se::l with sleeves that balloone grandly at the shoulders: rather stur ning coral earrings made up of gradi: ated globes ksJ a slinky satin skirt o black. "Good evening, Mr. Sikes," sh drawled, as she scuffled past him into the sitting room. "Nice balmy weather to be born In, Isn't it?" Mr. Sikes, taken unawares, forgot himself so far as to wink at the parson, par-son, and then, in some confusion, stammered: stam-mered: "St-step right in, Mrs. Sage, and have a chair. Let me make you acquainted with Oliver's sister, from Hopkinsville. Reverend Sage, Mrs. Gooch. Mr. Link, Mrs. Gooch. And this Is Oliver's brother-in-law, her husband, hus-band, also of Hopkinsville." Everybody bowed. "How is your dear brother, Mrs. Gooch?" Inquired Mr. Sage. "I didn't know there was anything the matter with Oliver." "There Isn't anything the matter with him," said Mrs. Sage, "that a good, stiff drink of whisky won't cure." "Ahem !" coughed her husband. He bud the worried manner of one who never knew what is coming next. His wife looked up into his face and smiled a lovely, good-humored smile that was slowly transformed into a mischievous grimace. "I'm always making breaks, am I not, Herby dear? It's a terrible strain, Mr. Gooch, being a parson's wife." "Umph !" grunted Mr. Gooch. At this Juncture the sitting room door was opened and the proud father, followed by Serepta Grimes, entered the room. Beaming, he surveyed the assembled gathering. "He's got the finest head you ever saw," he announced. "Got a head like a statesman." Reverend Sage had moved over to one of the windows, while the other occupants of the room surrounded Baxter, Bax-ter, and was gazing out between the curtains across the gale-swept porch into the blackness beyond. He shivered shiv-ered a little, poor chap, at the thought The Light Fell Full Upon a Face Close to a Window Pane. of going out again into the bitter, unbelievable un-believable night at the thought of his ' cold little home at the farther end of the village. He was thinking, too, of his wife and the mile walk she would have to take ' with him into the very teeth of the buffeting gale when this visit was over. 1 She had come to this wretched little : town from a great city, where houses and flats were warm and snug. He thought of the warm little room on tbe 1 third floor of the boarding house where he had lived and studied for two full ! years. It was in this house that he had 5 met Josephine Judge. She was the daughter of the kindly widow who con-. con-. ducted the boarding house a tall, slim girl who used slang and was gay and i blithesome, and had ambitions I Ambl-5 Ambl-5 tions? She wanted to become an - actress. She was stage-struck. He was not a theater-going youth. . He had been brought up with an ab-t ab-t horrence for the stage and all its ln-) ln-) iquities. So he devoted himself, heart i and soul, to the saving of the mis-r mis-r guided maiden, with astonishing re-t re-t suits. They fell in love with each l other and were married. He pressed his face against the cold , pan striving to rid his mind of the - doubts and worries that beset it. e Suddenly he drew back with an ex-i ex-i clamatlon. Tbe light fv.ll full upon a face close to the window pane, a face ; so startling and so vivid that it did not a appear to be real. A pair of dark, t gleaming eyes met his for a few sec-'. sec-'. onds: then swiftly the face was with-a with-a drawn. He leaned forward and peered e intently. Two indistinct figures took e shape in the unrelieved darkness at the j corner of the porch two women, he d made out. i- "Joseph." lie called, "there are two i- strange women on the porch. Perhaps f you ' "Go see who it is. Joe," commanded e 1 -Mrs. Grimes crisply. |