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Show I ' ' By WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE Copyright by WiUiam MacLeod R.b, . I "Have youf she asked, qnicicijr, ,, with a sidelong slnnt of eyes at htm. "I'm still very much at your service. Bee." ' - "" "Does that bean yoa still think yoa , want me?" "I don't think. I know It." "Then you're on,1 she told him wkll a little nod. "Thank you, kind sir." Bromfield drew a deep breath. ; "By ; Jove, you're a good little sport, Bee r I think I'll get up and give three ring-ing cheers.". "I'd like to see yoa do that," sh mocked. "Of course you know I'm the bappU est man In the world," he said, wtlh well-order- composure. ' "You're not exactly what I'd call a rapturous lover, Clary. But I'm not, either, for that matter, so I dare say we'll hit It off very well." "I'm a good deal harder hit than I've-eve-r let on, dear girl. And I'm going : to make you very happy. That's a ' promise." Kevertheless he watched her warily, behind a manner of graceful eager-ness. A suspicious little thought was Altering through the back of his mind. "What the deuce has got Into the girl? has she been quarreling with that bounder from Arlaona?" "I'm glad of that. I'll try to make you a good wife, even If" She let tha sentence die out unfinished. "May I tell everybody how happy I ami" "If you like," she agreed. v "A short engagement," he ventured. "Yes," she nodded. "And take me away for a while. I'm tired of New York, I think," Til take you to a place where the , The Arlzonan ran her up to his floor In the automatic elevator. "I've got a friend from home stayln' with me. He's the best-hearte- d fellow you ever saw. You'll sure like him." he told her without stress as he fitted his key to the lock. In another mo-ment Lindsay was Introducing her casually to the embarrassed and as-tonished joint proprietor of the apart-ment. - The Runt was costless and In his stockinged-feet- . He had been playing a doleful ditty on a mouth-orga- Caught bo unexpectedly, he blushed a beautiful brick red to his neck. "Heat some water, Johnnie, and make a good stiff toddy. Miss Kitty has been out In the rain." He lit the gas-lo- g and from his bed-room brought towels, a bathrobe, pa-jamas, a sweater and woolen slippers. On a lounge before the fire be dumped the clothes be had gathered. He drew up the easiest armchair in the room. "I'm goln' to the kitchen to Jack up Johnnie so he won't lay down on his ,.'MOST A MAN SYNOPSIS. A foreword tells this: I Motoring through Arizona, a party of easterners, father and daughter and a male companion, stop to wit-ness a cattle round up. The girl leaves the car and Is attacked by a wild steer. A masterpiece of tiding on tha part of one of the cowboys saves her life. .Then the story begins: Clay Lindsay, range-rid- er on an Arizona ranch, an-nounces his Mention to visit the "big town," New. York. On the train Lindsay becomes interested In a young- woman, Kitty Mason, on her way to New York to become a motion-pictu- re actress. She Is marked aa fair prey by a fellow traveler, Jerry Ourand, gang politi-cian and ex-prl- ie fighter. Perceiving his Intentions, Lindsay provokes a quarrel and throws Ourand from the train. On his first day In New York "Lindsay Is splashed with wa-ter by a Janitor. That Individual the range-rid- er punishes summarily and leaves tied to a Are hydrant. A young woman who sees the oc-I currence Invites Clay into her house and hides him from the po-lice. Clay's "rescuer" Introduces "No, ma'am, we won't have that broke In the range-ride-r In alarm. "We're plumb tickled to have you here. Clay, he feels thataway too." "I could keep house for you while 1 stay," she suggested timidly. "I know how to cook and the place does need cleaning." "Sure it does. Say, wha's the matter with you bein' Clay's Bister, Jes' got In last night on the train? Ttia's the story we'll put up to the landlord If you'll gimme the word." Johnnie told the story of the search for her, with Bpeclal emphasis on the night Clay broke Into three houses In answer to her advertisement. "I never wrote It. I never thought of that. It must have been" "It was that scalawag Ourand, y'betcha. I ain't still wearln' my pin-feath-none. He was sore because Clay had fixed his clock proper." "I've got no place to go, except back home and I've got no folks there but a second cousin. She doesn't want me. t don't L'nnni tn An t I hnit n thing primitive stirred her a flare of feminine ferocity. She felt hot to the touch, an active volcano ready for eruption. If only she could get a chance to strike back In a way that would hurt, to wound him as deeply as he had her I Tat to her desire came the oppor-tunity. Clay's card was brought In to her by Jenkins. "Tell Mr. Lindsay I'll see him In few minutes," she told the man. The few minutes stretched to a long quarter of an hour before she descend-ed. As soon as his eyes fell on her, Clay knew that this pale, slim girl In the close-fittin- g gown was a stranger to him. Her eyes, star-brig- and burn-ing like live coals, warned him that the friend whose youth had run out so eagerly to meet his was hidden deep In her today. "I reckon I owe yoa and Mr. Whit-for-d an apology," he said. "No need to tell you how I happened to leave " last night. I expect you know." "Why take the trouble! I think I nnlawtanil t Ctia aAi1 In tan avan cattle in the Oalluros five years ago and I got caught In a storm 'way up n the hills. When It rains lit my part tf Arizona, which ain't often, It sure des come down In sheets. The clay bfc(,ov the rubble on the slopes got sllcjc as Ice. My hawss, a young one, slipped and fell on me, clawed back to Its ffet, and bolted. Well, there I was with my lalg busted, forty miles from even a whlstlln' post In the desert, gettln' wetter and colder every blessed minute. " "There wasn't a chance In a million that ajiybody would hear, but I kept flrln' 4,tt my fohty-flv- e on the off hope. And jst before night a girl on a pinto came Jown the side of that uncurrled hill pund a bend and got me. She took me to cabin hidden In the bot-tom of canon and looked after me fou days. Her father, ft prospector, ha gone to Tucson for supplies and we were alone there. She fed me, nused me, and waltod on me. We di-vided a one-roo- m twelve-by-slxtee- n calln. - Understand, we were four paths are primrose-strew- n ana wnere nightingales sing," he promised, rashly. She smiled Incredulously, a wise old little smile that had no right on her young face. The report of the engagement spread at once. Bromfield took care of that herself as Beatrice Whitford. Lind-say meets her father, Colin Whit-for- d, and la-- invited to visit them again. He meets Kitty Mason by accident. She has been disappointed In her stage aspirations, and to support herself is sailing cigarettes in a cabaret Clay visits her there. Kitty Is Insulted by a customer. Clay punishes the aonoyer. After a lively mixup Lindsay escapes. Outside, ha is attacked by Jerry Durand and - a companion and beaten Insensible. Lindsay's ac-quaintance with Beatrice Whltford ripens. Through her he is Intro-duced Into "society." Ills "side partner" on the Arlxona ranch, Johnnie Green, comes to the "big town." The two take an apartment together. Word comes that Kitty Mason is In trouble. Clay goes to the rescue and Is helped by Annie Milllkao. He comes on a party of "gunmen," obviously waiting for his appearance. Lindsay "gets the drop" on the thugs, locks them In a room, and escapes. CHAPTER IX Continued. But miracles are made possible by miracle-worker- s. The Westerner was a dynamo of energy. He felt responsible for Kitty and he gave himself with single-minde- d devo-tion to the Job of discovering her. When Clay met Kitty at last It was quite by chance. As It happened, Bea-trice was present at the time. He bod been giving a box party at the Empire. The gay little group was gathered under the awning outside the foyer while the limousine that was to take them to Shnnlev's for sunner was woman friend some one to tell me what was best" Johnnie slapped his hand on his knee, struck by a sudden Inspiration. "Say I Y'betcha, by Jollies, I've got er the very one 1 You're dn you're sure whlstlln'. We got a lady friend. Clay and me, the finest little pilgrim In New York. She's sure there when the gong strikes. You'd love her. I'll fix It for you right away. I got to go to her house this afternoon an' do some chores. I'll bet she comes right over to see you." Kitty was doubtful. "Maybe we'bet-te- r wait and speak to Mr. Lindsay about It," she said. "No, ma'am, yoa don't know Miss Beatrice. She's the best friend. Why, I shouldn't wonder but that she and Clay might get married one o' these days. He thinks a lot of her." "Oh 1" Kitty knew Just a little more of human nature than the puncher. "Then I wouldn't tell her about me If I was you. She wouldn't like my bein' here." "Sho ! You don't know Miss Beatrice. She grades 'way up. I'll bet she likes you fine." When Johnnie left to go to work that afternoon he took with him a res-olution to lay the whole case before Beatrice Whltford. She would fix things all right. If there was one per-son on earth Johnnie could bank on without fall It was bis little boss. It .was not until Johnnie had laid the ca.s.e. before M..iss Whltford and restat- - . ........ schooled voice that set him at a dis-tance. "Your friend, Mr. Green, has carefully brought we the details I didn't know," Clay flushed. Her clear voice carried an edge of scorn. "You mustn't Judge by appearances. I know you wouldn't be unfair. I had to take her home and look after her." "I don't quite see why unless, of course, you wanted to," the girl an-swered, tapping the arm of her chair with Impatient finger-tip- s, eyes on the clock. "But, of course, It Isn't neces-sary I should see." Her cavalier treatment of htm did not affect the gentle Imperturbability of the westerner. , J'Because I'm a white man, because she's a --little girl who came from my country and can't hold her own here, because she was sick and chilled and starving.. Do you see now?" "No, but It doesn't matter. I'm not the keeper of your conscience, Mr. Lindsay," she countered with hard lightness. "You're judging me Just the same. If you'd let me bring her here to see you " "No, thanks." . , ."You're unjust" "You think sol" "And unkind. That's not like the little friend I've come to like so much." r - "You're kind enough for two, Mr, Lindsay. She really doesn't need an-other friend so long as she has you," she retorted with a flash of contemptu- - came back, and all the time the sky .was letfln' down ft terrible lot of wa-ter. When her father showed up he grinned and said, 'Lucky for you Myr-tle heard that six-gu- n of yore's pop I' He nnver thought one evil thing about either of us. He just accepted the sit-uation as necessary. Now the ques-tion Is, what ought she to have done? Left me to die on that hillside 7" "Of course not That's different," protested Beatrice, Indignantly. "You're trying to put me In the wrong. Well, I won't have It That's alt. Yoa may take your choice, Mr. Lindsay. Either send that girl away give her vp have nothing to do with her, or " "Or r "Or pleas don't come here to see me any more." He waited, his eyes steadily on her. "Do you sun enough mean that, Miss Beatrice?" . Her heart sank. She knew that she bad gone too far, but she was too Im-perious to draw back now. "Yes, that's just what I mean." "I'm sorry. You're leavln' me no op-tion. I'm not a yellow dog. Sometimes I'm 'most a man. I'm goln' to do what I think la right." "Of course," she responded, lightly. "If our Ideas of what that Is differ" "They do." ( "It's because wave been brought up differently, I suppose." She achieved a stifled little yawn behind her hand. "You've said If,-- ' He gave It' to her straight from tr-- shoulder. "All yore The Runt Was Coatless and In His Stockinged-Fee- t Job," he told her cheerily. "You take yore time and get into these dry clothes. We'll not disturb you till you knock." When her timid knock came her host brought In a steaming cup. "You drink being called. ' Colin Whltford, looking out Into the rain that pelted down, ut-tered an exclamatory "By Jove !' Clay turned to him Inquiringly. "A woman was looking out of that doorway at us," he said. "If she's not In deep water I'm a bad guesser. I thought for a moment she knew me or some one pf us. She started to reach out her hands and then shrauk back." "Young or old?" asked the cattle-man. "Young a girl." "Excuse me." The host was off In an Instant almost on the run. But the woman hod gone, swallowed In . t. I., l S , tins, it ii worm you goou. "What is It J" she asked shyly. "Medicine," be smiled. "Doctor's or-ders." While she sipped the toddy Johnnie brought from the kitchen a tray upon which were ten, fried potatoes, ham, eggs, and buttered toast. The girl ate ravenously. It was an easy guess that she had not before tasted food that day. Clay kept up a flow of talk, mostly about Johnnie's culinary triumphs. Meanwhile he made up a bed on the couch. Once she looked up at him, her throat swollen with emotion. "You're ea it unuer me impression mai sue could not have understood that his con-fidence ebbed. He had. expected an eager Interest, a quick enthusiasm. Instead, he found In his young mis-tress a spirit beyond his understand-ing. Her manner had a touch of cool disdain, almost of contempt, while she listened to his tale. She asked no questions and made no comments. What he hud to tell met with chill silence. Jehnule's guileless narrative had made clear to her that Clay had brought Kitty home about midnight, had mixed a drink for her, and hud given her his own clothes to replace her wet ones. Somehow the ous eyes. "In New York we're not used to being so kind to people of her sort." Clay lifted a hand. "Stop right there, Miss Beatrice. You don't want to say anything you'll be sorry for." "I'll say this," she cut back. 'The men I know wouldn't Invite a woman to their rooms at midnight and pass her off as their sister and then ex-pect people to know her. They would be kinder to themselves end to their own reputations." "Will you tell me what else there was to do? Where could I have taken her at that time of night? Are repu- - "I Was Wondering When You Were Go-In- g to Ask Me Again te Marry You." " The evening of the day the Runt heard of the engagement he told his friend about It while Kitty was In the kitchen. "Miss Beatrice she's wearln' a new ting," he said by way of breaking the news gently. Clay, turned hts head slowly and looked at Johnnie. "Bromfield?" he asked. ; "Yep. That'B the story." "The ring was on the left hnnd V "Yep." w Clay made no comment. Ills friend knew enough to say no more to him, Presently the cattleman went out. It was In the small hours of the morning when he returned. .He Md been tramping the streete to get the fever out of his Mood. But Johnnie discussed with Kitty at length this new development. Just as he had discussed with her tike fact that Clay no longer went to see the Whit fords. Kitty made a shrewd guess nt the cause of division. She had already long since drawn from the cbwpuncher the story of how Miss Beatrice hud re-jected his proposal that she take an Interest In her. "They must 'a qunrreIed--llkel- y about me being .here. Ji m srry yott told ber." , j "I don't reckon that's It. . Miss 5Rn-tric- e she's gH too ,oj! Jr.r!g:ni";"for ' ' ' ' that." . - "I ought to go away. I'm only bring. Ing Mr. Lindsay trouble. If he Just could hear from his friends In Arizou about that place he's trying to get mo, I'd go right off." . He looked at her wistfully. Kitty had begun to bloom again. Her cheeks were taking on their old rounded con-tour and occasionally dimples of de-light flashed Into them. Already the marks of her s' misery among the submerged derelicts of the city was beginning to be wiped from her mind like the memory of n lmt dream from whlcirshe had awakened. Lv was a craving of her happy, sensu nature. She wanted to live In the sun among smiles and laughter. She was like a kilten In her desire to he petted, made much of ami udmlred. Almost anybody who liked her could win a place In her affection. "Jim'd croak mm if he knew I'd given thisl" (TO BK CONTINUED.) life you've been pampered. When you wanted a thing all you had to do was to reach out a band for It. Folks were born to wait on you, by yore way of It. You're a spoiled kid. Ask me to turn my back on a friend, and I've got to sny, 'Nothin doinV And If you was Just a few years younger I'd advise yore pa to put you In yore room and feed you bread and water for askin' it" The ngry color poured Into her cheeks. She clenched ber hands till the pulls bit her palms. "I think you're the most hateful man I ever met," she cried, passionately. His easy smile taunted her. "Oh, no, you don't. You Just think you think It Now, I'm goln' to light a shuck. I'll be sayln' good-by- , Miss Beatrice, until you send for me." "And that will be never," she flung at him. ' He rose, bowed and walke'd out of the room. The street doer closed behind him. Beatrice bit her Hp to keep from breaking down before she reached her room. CHAPTER XI A Lady Wears a Ring. Clarendon Bromfield got the shock of his life that evening. Beatrice pro-posed So h!:2. It vn a the Jtoberson dinner-dunc- In the Palm room, with-in sight hut not within hearing of a dozen other guests. She camouflaged what she was doing with occasional smiles and ripples of laughter Intended to deceive the oth-ers present, but her heart was pound-ing sixty miles nn hour. Bromfield was not easily disconcert-- 1 ed. He prided himself on his aplomb. But for once he was amazed. "I beg your pardon." Miss Whltford laced her fingers round her knee and repeated. Her eyes were hard and brilliant as dia-monds. "I was wondering when you are going to ask me again to marry you." Since she had given a good deal of feminine diplomacy to the task of keeping him at a reasonable distance, Bromfield was naturally surprised. "That's certainly a leading ques-tion," he parried. "What are you up to, Bee? Are you spooling tne?" "I'm proposing to you," she ex-plained, with a flirt of lier hand and nn engaging smile toward a man and a girl who had Just come Into the I'nlm room. "I don't suppose I do It very well, becuQsc I haven't had your experience. But I'm doing the best I can." Hts lids narrowed a trifle. "Do yen mean that you've changed your mind?" wo vi a muc kich, Clay followed. Beatrice turned to ber father, eye-brows lifted. There was a moment's awkward silence. "Mr. Lindsay will be back pres-ently," Whltford aald. "We'll get in and wait for him out of the way a lit-tle farther up the street." When Clay rejoined them he talked In a low voice with Beatrice's father. The mining man nodded agreement and Lindsay turned to the others. "I'm enjied ' away," he explulned aloud. "Mr. Whltford has kindly prom-ised to play host In my place. I'm right sorry to leuve, but It's rrgent." Ula grave smile asked Beatrice to be charitable in her findings. The eyes she gave him were coldly hostile. He knew Beatrice did not and would not . understand. The girl was wolfing w here Cloy . had left her, crouched against a base-me-milliner's door under the shelter of the steps. "I I've looked for you everywhere," moaned the girl. "It's been awful." "I know, but'lt's goln' to he all right now, Kitty," he comforted. "You're goln' home with me tonight. Tomo-rrow we'll talk it nil over." lie tucked nn arm under hers and led her along the wet, shining street to a toxical. She crouched In a cor-ner of the cub, her body shaken with Sobs. The young man moved closer and put a strong arm around her shoul-ders. "Don't you worry. Kilty. Yore big brother Is on the job now." He knew her story now In Its essen-tlnl- s as well as he did later when she wept It out to him In confession. And because she was who she was, born to lean on a stronger will, he acquitted her of blame. CHAPTER X Johnnie Makes a Joke. A Kitty stepped from the cab she wis trembling violently. "Don't you be frlghteend. H'l pnrd-ne- r. You've come home. There wou't anybody hurt you hen.1." good." "Sho ! ' We been needln' a 1IT sister to brace up our manners for us. It's lucky for us I found you. Now I ex-pect you're tired and sleepy. We fixed up yore bed in here because It's warm-er. You'll be able to make out with It all right. The springs are good." Clay left her with a cheerful smile. "Turn out the light before you go to bed, Miss Colorado, Sleep tight. And don't you worry. Ypu're back with old home folks again now, you know." Tired out from tramping the streeta without food and drowsy from the toddy she had taken, Kitty fell Into ueeu le p urdlt"rbed by troubled dreams. The cattleman knew he had found, her tn the nick of time. She had told him that she had no money, no room In which to sleep, no pruspect'of work. Everything she had except the clothes on her back had been pawned te buy food and lodgings. But she was young and resilient. When she got back home to the country where she be-longed, time would obliterate from her mind the experiences of which she had been the victim. It whs pnst midday when Kitty woke. She found her clothes dry. After she dressed she opened the door that led to the kitchen. Johnnie began to hustle about In preparation for her breakfust. Tleiise don't trouble. I'll eat what you've got cooked," she begged. "It's no trouble, ma'am, if the's a thing on earth I enjoy doln' It's sure cook In'. Do you like yore aigs sunny side up or turned?" "Either way. Whichever you like, Mr. Creen." While she ate he waited on her so-licitously. Insi'le, he was a river of tears for her, but with It went a good deal of awe. Even now, wan-eye- d and hollow-cheeke- she was attractive. In Johnnie's lonesome life he hud never before felt so close to a girl as he did to this one. I i don't like to he so much bother to you," she ssld. "Maybe I can go away thi afternoon." cattleman's robe, pajamas and bedroom slippers obtruded unduly from his friend's story. Even the Runt felt this. He began to perceive himself a helpless medium of wrong Impressions. "I suppose you know that when the manager of your apartment house finds out she's there he'll send her pack-ing." So Beatrice gummed up when she spoke at last. "No, ma'am, I reckon not. You see we done told him she Is Clay's sister jes' got In from the West," the punch-- ' er explained. "Oh, I see." The girl's lip curled and her clean-cu- t chin lifted a trifle. "You don't seem to have overlooked any-thing. I'o, I den't think I care to have anything to do with your "arrange-ments." Beatrice turned and walked swiftly Into the house. A pulse of anger was beating in her soft throat. She felt a sense of outrage. To Clay Lindsay she had given herself generously In spirit. Site hnd risked something In Introduc-ing him to her friends. They might have laughed at him for his slight so-cial lapses. They might have rejected him for his luck of background. They hnd done neither. He wars 'so genuine-ly a man that he had won his way In-stantly. l'uclng up and down her room, little fists clenched, her soul In passionate turmoil. Beatrice went over It all a'aln as she hnd done through a sleepless night. Si.e had given him so much, and lie had seemed to give her even more. Hours filled with a keen-edge- d delight Jumped to her memory, hours that had carried her nway from the falseness of social fribble to clean, wind-swept- , open spaces of the mind. And after this after be had tacitly recognized her claim on him he had insulted her before her friends by de-serting his gnests to go off with thla hussy he had been spending weeks to senrrh for. Not for a moment did she admit, perhaps she did not know, that on in-sane Jealousy was flooding her being, that her Indignation was based on per-M.in-as well as moral grounds. Suuie-- Pacing Up and Down Her Room, Lit-tle Fists Clenched, Her Soul In Pas-sionate Turmoil. , table hotels open at midnight to lone women, wet and ragged, who come without baggage either alone or escort-ed by a man?" "I'm not telling you what you ought to have done. Mr. Lindsay," she an-swered, with a touch of hauteur. "But since you ask me why couldn't you have given her money and let her find a place for herself?" "Because that wouldn't have saved her." "Oh, wouldn't it?" she retorted, dry-ly. He walked over to the fireplace and put an elbow on the corner of the mantel. "Lemma tell you a atory. Miss Bea-trice," he suld presently. "Mehbe It'll afcew you what I mean. 1 was runnln' Free and Independent. "Why didn't you iaugh t the boss Joke, Bill?" "Don't have to; I quit 8t'irlay," |
