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Show 7 SERIAL V ! STORY j 1 EXCUSE 1 nf--1- - - V'ff -r-Q''--' Novelized from the Comedy of the Same Name By ILLUSTRATED Rupert From Fhototfrapba ol the Play aa Produced Hughes By Bear? W. Savaga CopfltfUl, bjr LL j If Oo. it 8YN0PSIS. f.U'Mt. Harry Mallory Ih ordered to the T'tilllpplni-H. He and Marjorle NVwtun (!:' ldt: to elope, hut wreck of taxicab prevent pre-vent their seeing minister on the way to the train. Tr ansrontinentHl train la taking tak-ing on pasHenK'TS. J'nrter haa a lively lime Willi an KnKllnhman and Ira Iath-rop, Iath-rop, a V'ankf p liuslneSH man. The flopers ha'o an exulting tlmo getting to the train. "Utile Jlnimle" Wellington, bounrl for Reno to get a divoree, hoards train n maudlin condition. Later Mr. Jlmmle lipIfurH. She Ih Hlao bound for i'teno with name object. Likewise Mra. Sammy Whlt-cornh. Whlt-cornh. Latter blames Mra. Jlmmle for her marital troubles. Classmal es of Mal-lory Mal-lory decnrale bridal berth. Uev. and Mra. Temple Mtart on a vacation. They decide to cut loose and Temple removes evidence of, Ilia calling. Marjorio decides to let Mallnry proceed alone, but train starts while they are lost in farewell. Passengers Passen-gers Join Mnllory's classmates In giving couple wedding imping. Marjorle Is distracted. dis-tracted. Ira T.atlirop, woman-haling bachelor, discovers an old sweetheart. Anne (lattle, a fellow passenger. Mal-lory Mal-lory vainly hunta for a preacher amone the passengers. Mrs. Wellington hears Little .llmmle'a voice. Later -she meets Mra. Whltcomb. Mallory reports to Mar-Jorle Mar-Jorle his failure to find a preacher. They decide to pretend a cpiarrel and Mallory finds a vacant berth. Mrs. Jlmmle discovers discov-ers Wellington on the train. Mallory again makes an- unsuccessful hunt for a preacher. Dr. Temple poses aa a physician. physi-cian. Mrs. Temple is induced by Mra. Wellington to smoke a cigar. Sight of preacher on a station platform raises Mnllory's hopes, but he takes another train. Missing hand baggage compels the couple to borrow from passengers. Jim-mle Jim-mle gets a Hinder In his eye and Mra. Jimmlo gives llrst-ald. Coolness is then resumed. Still no clergyman. More borrowing. bor-rowing. CHAPTER XXII (Continued). He felt that ho was the greatest sinner sin-ner on earth, but worst of all was the fact that when he had fallen, the forbidden for-bidden brew was not sweet. He was Inexperienced enough to sip it and it was like foaming quinine on his palate. pal-ate. But he kept at it from sheer shame, and his luxurious transgression transgres-sion was its own punishment. The doleful Mallory was on his way to join the "club." Crossing the vestibule ves-tibule he had met the conductor, and had ventured to quiz him along the old lines: "Excuse he, haven't you taken any clergymen on board this train yet?" "Devil a one." "Don't you ever carry any preachers on this road?" "Usually we get one or two. Last trip we carried a whole Methodist convention." "A whole convention last trip! Just my luck!" The unenlightened conductor turned to call back: "Say, up In the forward car we got a couple of undertakers. They be of any use to you?" "Not yet." Then -Mallory dawdled on Into the emoking room, where he found his own porter, who explained that he had been "promoted to the bottlery." "Do we come to a station stop loon?" Mallory asked. "Well, not for a considerable interval. inter-val. Do you want to get out and walk up and down?" "I don't," said Mallory, taking from under his coat Snoozleums, whom he had smuggled past the new conductor. "Meanwhile, Porter, could you give him something to eat to distract him?" The porter grinned, and picking up a bill of fare held it out. "I got a meenuel. It ain't written in dog, but you can explain It to him. What would yo' canine deslah, sah?" Snoozleums put out a paw and Mallory Mal-lory read what it indicated: "He says he'd like a filet Chateaubriand, but if you have any old bones, he'll take those." The porter gathered Snoozle-ueqb Snoozle-ueqb In and disappeared with him Into the buffet, Mallory calling after him: "Don't let the conductor see him." Dr. Temple advanced on the disconsolate dis-consolate youth with an effort at cheer: "How is our bridegroom this beautiful afternoon?" Mallory glanced at his costume: "I feel like a rainbow gone wrong. Just my luck to have to borrow from everybody. Look at me! This collar of Mr. Welington's makes me feel like a peanut in a rubber tire." He turned to Fosdick. "I say, Mr. Fosdick, what size collar col-lar do you wear?" "Fourteen and a half," said Fosdick. "Fourteen and a half! why don't you get a neck? You haven't got a plain white shirt, have you? Our English friend lent me this, but it's purple, and Mr. Ashton's socks are taaroon, and this seacock blue tie is iery unhappy." "I think I can fit you out," said Fosdick. Fos-dick. "And If you had an extra pair of eocks," Mallory pleaded "Just one pair of unemotional socks." "I'll show you my repertoire." "All right, I'll see you later." Then he went up to Wellington, with much hesltance of manner. "By the way, Mr. Wellington, do you suppose Mrs. Wellington could lend Miss Mrs. eould lend Marjorle some some " Wellington waved him Hde with magnificent scorn: "T am no longer In Mrs. Wellington's confidence." "Oh, excuse me," said Mallory. He had noted that the Wellingtons occupied occu-pied separate compartments, but for all he knew their reason was as romantic ro-mantic as his own. CHAPTER XXIII. Through a Tunnel. Mrs. Jlmmle Wellington, who had traveled much abroad and learned in England the habit of smoking in the corridors of expensive hotels, had acquired ac-quired also the habit, as travelers do, of calling England freer than America. Amer-ica. She determined to do her share toward the education of her native country, and chose, for her topic, tobacco to-bacco as a feminine accomplishment. She had grown indifferent to stares and audible comment and she could fight a protesting head waiter to a standstill. If monuments and tablets are ever erected to the first woman who smoked publicly in this place or that, Mrs. Jlmmle Wellington will be variously remembered and occupy a large place In historical record. The narrow confines of the women's room on the sleepii;': car soon palled on her, and she objected to smoking there except when she felt the added luxury of keeping some other woman outside fuming, but not smoking. And now Mrs. Jimmie had staked out a claim on the observation platform. She sat there, puffing like a major-general, major-general, and in one portion of Nebraska Ne-braska two farmers fell off their agricultural agri-cultural vehicles at the sight of her cigar-smoke trailing after the train. In Wyoming three cowboys followed her for a mile, yipping and howling their compliments. Feeling the smoke mood coming on, Mrs. Wellington Invited Mrs. Temple to smoke with her, but Mrs. Temple felt a reminiscent qualm at the very thought, so Mrs. Jimmie sauntered out alone, to the great surprise of Ira Lathrop, whose motto was, "Two heads are better than one," and who was apparently wililng to wait till Anne Gattle's head grew on his shoulder. "I trust I don't Intrude," Mrs. Wellington Well-ington said. ' "Oh, no. Oh, yes." Anne gasped In fiery confusion as she fled Into the car, followed by the purple-faced Ira, who slammed the door with a growl: "That Wellington woman would break up anything." The prim little missionary toppled into the nearest chair: "Oh, Irawhat will she think?" "She can't think!" Ira grumbled. "In a little while she'll know." "Don't you think we'd better tell everybody before they begin to talk?" Ira glowed with pride at the thought and murmured with all the ardor of a senile Romeo: "I suppose so, ducky darling. I'll break It 1 mean I'll tell It to the men, and you tell the-women." "All right, dear, I'll obey you," she answered, meekly. "Obey me!" Ira laughed with boyish boy-ish swagger. "And you a missionary!" mission-ary!" "Well, I've converted one heathen, anyway," said Anne as she darted down the corridor, followed by Ira, who announced his intention to "go to the baggage car and dig up his old Prince Albert." In their flight forward they passed the mysterious woman In the stateroom. state-room. They were too full of their own mystery to give thought to hers. Mrs. Fosdick went timidly prowling toward the observation car, suspecting suspect-ing everybody to be a spy, as Mallory suspected everybody to be a clergyman clergy-man In disguise. As she stole along the corridor past the men's clubroom she saw her husband her here-and-there husband wearily counting the telegraph posts and summing them up into miles. She tapped on the glass and signalled to him, then passed on. He answered with a look, then pretended pre-tended not to have noticed, and waited wait-ed a few moments before he rose with an elaborate air of carelessness. He beckoned the porter and said: "Let me know the moment we enter en-ter Utah, will you?" "Yassah. We'll be comln' along right soon now. We got to pass through the big Aspen tunnel, after that, befo' long, we splounce Into old Utah." "Don't forget," said Fosdick, as he sauntered out. Ashton perked up his ears at the promise of a tunnel and kept his eye on his watch. Fosdick entered the observation room with a hungry look in his luscious eyes. His now-and-then wife put up a warning finger to indicate Mrs. Whltcomb's presence at the writing desk. Fosdick's smile froze into a smirk of formality and he tried to chill his tone as If he were speaking to a total stranger. "Good afternoon." Mrs. Fosdick answered with equal ice: "Good afternoon. Won't you sit down?" "Thanks. Very picturesque scenery, scen-ery, isn't it?" "Isn't it?" Fosdick seated himself, looked about cautiously, noted that Mrs. Whitcomb was apparently absorbed ab-sorbed in her letter, then lowered his voice confidentially. His face kept up a strained pretense of indifference, but his whisper was passionate with longing: "Has my poor little wlfey missed her poor old hubby?" "Oh, so much!" she whispered. "Has poor little hubby missed his poor old wife?" "Horribly. Was she lonesome In that dismal stateroom all by herself?" her-self?" "Oh, so miserable! I can't stand it much longer." Fosdick's face blazed with good news: "In Just a little whfH Ve comi to the Utah line then we're safe." "God ble6s Utah!" The rapture died from her face tu she caught sight of Dr. Temple, who happened to stroll In and go to the bookshelves, and taking out a book happened to glance near-slghtedly her way. "Be careful of that man, dearie," Mrs. Fosdick hissed out of one side of her mouth. "He's a very Strang! character." Her husband was Infected with her own terror. He asked, huskily: "What do you think he Is?" "A detective! I'm sure he's watching watch-ing us. He followed you right in here." "We'll be very cautious till we get to Utah." The old clergyman, a little fuzzy in brain from his debut in beer, continued contin-ued Innocently to confirm the appeari ance of a detective by drifting aimi lessly about. He was looking for his wife, but he kept glancing at the uneasy un-easy Fosdlcks. He went to the door, opened it, saw Mrs. Wellington finish: ing a cigar, and retreated precipitately. precipitate-ly. Seeing Mrs. Temple wandering in the corridor, he motioned her to a chair near the Fosdlcks and she sat by his side, wondering at his filmy eyes. The Fosdlcks, glancing uncomfortably uncomfort-ably at Dr. Temple, rose and selected other chairs further away. Then Roger Ashton sauntered in, his eyes searching for a proper companion through the tunnel. He saw Mrs. Wellington returning from the platform, just tossing away her cigar and blowing out the last of its grateful vapor. With an effort at sarcasm, he went to her and offered her one of his own cigars, smiling: "Have another." She took It, looked it over, and parried his Irony with a formula she had heard men use when they hate to refuse a gift-cigar: "Thanks. I'll smoke It after dinner. If you don't mind." "Oh, I don't mind," he laughed, then bending closer he murmured: "They tell me we are coming to a tunnel, a nice, long, dark, dismal tunnel." Mrs. Wellington would not take a dare. She felt herself already emancipated eman-cipated from Jimmie. So she answered Ashton's hint with a laughing challenge: chal-lenge: "How nice of the conductor to arrange ar-range it." Ashton smacked his lips over the prospect. And now the porter, having noted Ashton's impatience to reach the tunnel, tun-nel, thought to curry favor and a quarter by announcing Its approach. He bustled in and made straight for Ashton just as the tunnel announced itself with a sudden swoop of gloom, a great Increase of the train-noises and a far-off clang of the locomotive bell. Out of the Egyptian darkness came the unmistakable sounds of osculation in various parts of the room. Doubtless, Doubt-less, it was repeated in other parts of the train. There were numerous cooing coo-ing sounds, too, but nobody spoke except ex-cept Mrs. Temple, who was heard to murmur: "Oh, Walter, dear, what makes your breath so funny!" Next came a little yowl of pain In Mrs. Fosdick's voice, and then daylight day-light flooded the car with a rush, as If time had made an Instant leap from midnight to noon. There were Interesting Inter-esting disclosures. Mrs. Temple was caught with her arms round the doctor's neck, and she blushed like a spoony girl. Mrs. Fosdick was trying to disengage her hair from Mr. Fosdick scarf-pin. Mrs. Whltcomb alone was deserted. Mr. Ashton was gazing devotion at Mrs. Wellington and trying to tell her with his eyes how velvet he had found her cheek. But she was looking reproachfully at him from a chair, and saying, not without regret: "I heard everybody kissing everybody, every-body, but I was cruelly neglected." Ashton's eyes widened with unbe-lief, unbe-lief, he heard a snicker at his elbow, and whirled to find the porter rubbing rub-bing his black velvet cheek and writhing with pent-up laughter. (TO BE CONTINUED.) |