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Show TSERlALf L STORY ) Novelized from the Comedy of the Same Name By ILLUSTRATED Ruper From Photographs of H .. the Ply as Produced ughes By Henry Wi Savate CopyrlgiH, tali, by U. J. I-ly (lo. 25 SYNOPSIS. i,1"'?'-- H.arry Mallory is ordered to the Philippines. He and llarjorie Newton New-ton d,-eide to elope, but wreck of taxi-car, taxi-car, prevents their seeing minister on the way to the train. Transcontinental uain is taking- on passengers. Porter nas a lively time with an Englishman and Ira Lathrop. a Yankee business man. The elopers have an exciting fin t0 tne train- "Wttle Jim-mie Jim-mie - ellmgton. bound for Reno to get a divorce, boards train In maudlin condition. con-dition. Later Mrs. Jimmie appears. She is also bound for Reno with same object ob-ject Likewise Mrs. Sammy Whitcomb. patter blames Mrs. Jimmie for her marital mar-ital troubles. Classmates of Mallory decorate bridal berth. Rev. and Mrs. temple start on. a vacation. They decide de-cide to cut loose and Temple removes evidence of his calling. Marjorie decides de-cides to let Mallory proceed alone, but train starts while they are lost In farewell. fare-well. , Passengers join Malorv's classmates class-mates In giving couple wedding hazing. Marjorie is distracted. Ira Lathrop. woman-hating bachelor, discovers an old sweetheart, Annie Gattle, a fellow-passenger. fellow-passenger. Mallory vainly hunts Sor a preacher among the passengers. Mrs. Wellington hears Little Jimmle's voice. Later she meets Mrs. Whitcomb. Mallory Mal-lory reports to Marjorie his failure to find a preacher. They decide to pretend a quarrel and Mallory finds a vacant berth. Mrs. Jimmie discovers Wellington Welling-ton on the train. Mallory again makes an unsuccessful hunt for a preacher. Dr. Temple poses as a physician. Mrs. temple is induced by Mrs. Wellington to smoke a cigar. Sight of preacher on a station platform raises Mallorv's hopes, but he takes another train. Missing Miss-ing hand baggage compels the couple to borrow from passengers. Jimmie gets a cinder in his eye and Mrs. Jimmie Jim-mie gives first aid. Coolness is then resumed. Still no clergyman. More borrowing. Dr. Temple puzzled by behavior-of different! couples. Marjorie's jealousy aroused by Mallory's baseball Jargon. Marjorie suggests wrecking the train in hopes that accident will produce a preacher. Also tries to induce conductor to hold the train so she can shop. Marjorie's dog Is missing. She pulls the cord, stopping the train. Conductor Con-ductor restores dog and lovers quarrel. Lathrop wires for a preacher to marry him and Miss Gattle. Mallory tells Lathrop La-throp of his predicament and arranges to borrow the preacher. Kitty Lewel-lyn. Lewel-lyn. former sweetheart of Mallory's. appears and arouses Marjorie's jealousy. jeal-ousy. Preacher boards train. After marrying Lathrop. and Miss Gattle the preacher escapes Mallory by leaping from moving train. Mallory's dejection moves Marjorie to reconciliation. The last day on the train brings Mallory the fear of missing his transport. Mallory Mal-lory gets a Nevada marriage license. CHAPTER XXXIV Continued. Seeing them together, Mrs. Temple watched the embrace with tier daily renewal of joy that the last night's quarrel had not proved fatal. She nudged her husband: "See, they're making up again." Dr. Temple was moved to a violent outburst for him: "Well, that the darnedest bridal couple 1 only said darn, my dear." He was still more startled when Mr. Baumann, cruising along the aisle, bent over to murmur: "Can I fix you a nice divorce?" Dr. Temple rose in such an attitude of horror as he assumed in the pulptt when denouncing the greatest curse of society, and Mr. Baumann retired. As he passed Mallory he cast an appreciative ap-preciative glance at Marjorie and, tapping Mallory's shoulder, whispered: "No vonder you want a marriage license. li-cense. I'll be In the next car, should you neet me." Then he went on his route. Marjorie stared after him in wonder won-der and asked: "What did that person mean by what he said?" "It's all right, Marjorie," Mallory explained, In the highest cheer: "We can get married right away." Marjorie declined to get her hopes up again: "You're always saying that." "But here's the license see?" "What good is that?" she said; "there's no preacher on board." "But that man is a justice of the peace and he'll marry us." Marjorie stared at him incredulously: incredulous-ly: "That creature! before all these passengers?" "Not at all," Mallory explained. "We'll go into the smoking room." Marjorie leaped to her feet, aghast: "Elope two thousand miles to be married mar-ried in a smoking room by a Yiddish drummer! Harry Mallory, you're crazy." Put Just that way, the proposition did not look so alluring as at first. He sank back with a sigh: "1 guess i am. I resign." He was as weary of being "foiled again" as the villain of a cheap melodrama. melo-drama. The two lovers sat in a twilight twi-light of deep melancholy, till Marjorie's Mar-jorie's mind dug up a new source ot alarm: "Harry, I've just thought of something some-thing terrible." "Let's have it," he sighed, drearily. We reach San Francisco at midnight mid-night and you sail at daybreak. What becomes of me?" Mallory had no answer to this problem, prob-lem, except a grim: "I'll not desert y"But we'll have no time to get noar- rlThen" he declared with iron re-solve, re-solve, "then I'll resign from the "Sa'rjorle stared at him with awe He was so wonderful, so heroic. 'But i!bat wilt U country do without VO'I7" "It will have to get along the best I It can," he answered with finality. "Do you think I'd give you up?" But this was too much to asH. In the presence of a ruined career and a heroless army, Marjorie felt that her own scruples were too petty to count. She could be heroic, too. "No!" she said, in a deep, low tone, "No, we'll get married In the smoking room. Go call your drummer!" This opened the clouds and let In the sun again with such a radiant blaije that Mallory hesitated no longer. "Fine!" he cried, and leaped to his feet, only to be detained again by Marjorie's clutch: "But first, what about that bracelet?" brace-let?" "She's got it," Mallory groaned, slumping from the heights again. "Do you mean to say she's still wearing it?" "How was I to get it?" "Couldn't you have slipped into her car last night and stolen it?" "Good Lord, I shouldn't think you'd want me to go why, Marjorie I'd be arrested ! " But Marjorie 'set her jaw hard: "Well, you get that bracelet, or you don't get me." And then her smouldering smoul-dering jealousy and grief took a less hateful tone: "Oh, Harry!" she wailed, "I'm so lonely and so helpless and so far from home." "But I'm here," he urged. "You're farther away than anybody," any-body," she whimpered, huddliug close to him. "Poor little thing," no murmured, soothing her with voice and kiss and caress. "Put your arm round me," she cooed, like a mourning .dove, "I don't care if eTerybody is looking. Oh, I'm so lonely." "I'm just as lonely as you are," he pleaded, trying to creep into the company com-pany of her misery. "Please marry me soon," she Implored, Im-plored, "won't you, please?" "I'd marry you this minute if you'd say the word," he whispered. "I'd say it if you only had that bracelet," she sobbed, like a tired child. "I should think you would understand un-derstand my feelings. That awful person per-son is wearing your bracelet and 1 have only your ring, and her bracelet is ten times as big as my r-l-ng, boo-hoo-hoo-oo!" "I'll get that bracelet if I have to chop her arm off," Mallory vowed. The sobs stopped short, as Marjorie Mar-jorie looked up to ask: "Have you got your sword with you?" "Itls in my trunk," he said, "but I'll manage." "Now you're speaking like a soldier," sol-dier," Marjorie exclaimed, "my brave, noble, beautiful, fearless husband. Til tell you! That creature will pass through this car on her way to breakfast. break-fast. You grab her and take the bracelet away from her." "I grab her, eh?" he stammered, his heroism wavering -a trifle. "Yes, just grab her." . "Suppose she hasn't the bracelet on?" he mused. "Grab her anyway," Marjorie answered, an-swered, fiercely. "Besides, I've no doubt It's wished on." He said nothing. noth-ing. "You did wish it on, didn't you?" "No, no never of course not " he protested. "If you'll only be calm. I'll get it if I have to throttle her." Like a young Lady Macbeth, Marjorie Mar-jorie gave him her utter approval in any atrocity, and they sat in ambush for their victim to pass into view. They had not had their breakfast, but they forgot it. A dusky waiter went by chanting his "Lass call for breakfuss in Rining Rar." He chanted chant-ed it thrice in their ears, but they never heard. Marjorie was gloating over the discomfiture of the odious creature who had dared to precede her In the acquaintance of her husband-to-be. The husband-to-be was miserably wishing that he had to face a tribe of bolo-brandishing Moros, instead in-stead of this trivial girl whom he had looked upon when her cheeks were red. CHAPTER XXXV. Mr. and Mrs. Little Jimmie. Mrs. Sammy Whitcomb had longed for the sweet privilege of squaring matters with Mrs. Jimmie Wellington. Sneers and back-biting, shrugs and shudders of contempt were poor compensation com-pensation for the ever-vivid fact that Mrs. Wellington had proved attractive to her Sammy while Mrs. Wellington's Welling-ton's Jimmie never looked at Mrs. Whitcomb. Or if he did, his eyes had been so blurred that he had seen two of her and avoided both. . Yesterday she had overheard Jimmie Jim-mie vow sobriety. Today his shining morning face showed that he had kept his word. She could hardly wait to begin the flirtation which, she, trusted, would render Mrs. Wellington helplessly furious for six long Keno months. The Divorce Drummer Interposed and held Jimmie prisoner for a time, but as soon as Mr. Baumann released him, Mrs. Whitcomb apprehended him. With a smile that beckoned and with eyes that went out like far-cast fishhooks, she drew Leviathan into her net. She reeled him in and he plounced in the seat opposite. What she took for bashfuiness was reluctance. To add the last charm to her success, Mrs. Wellington arrived to see It. Mrs. Whitcomb saw the lonely Ashton rise and offer her the seat lacing him. Mrs. Wellington took it aud sat down with the back of her head so close to the back of Mr. Wellington's head that the feather in her hat tickled his neck. Jimmie Wellington had seen his wife pass by. To his sober eyes she was a fine sight as she moved up the aisle. In his alcohol-emancipated mind the keen sense of wrong endured en-dured that had driven bim forth to Reno began to lose Its edge. His owi soul appealed from Jlmjule drunk u Jimmie sober. The appellate judgt began to reverse the lower court's de cision, point by point. He felt a sudden recrudescence or jealousy as he heard Ashton's voice unctuously, flirtatiously offering hlf. wife hospitality. He wanted to trounc Ashton. But what right had he us defend from gallantry the woman ht wa3 about to forswear before the world? Jimmie's soul was in turmoil and Mrs. Whitcomb's pretty face and alluring smile only annoyed him. She had made several graclout speeches before he quite comprehended comprehend-ed any of them. Then he realized that she was saying, "I'm so " glad you're going tc stop at Reno, Mr. Well ington." "Thank you. So am I," he mum bled, trying to look tntereted and wishing that his wile's plune would not tickie bi.'i neck. Mrs. Whitcomb went or, leaning closer: We two poor mistreated wretches must try to console one another, an-other, musn't rVe?" "Yes, yes,- -we must," Wellington nodded, with 1 sickly cheer. Mrs. Whitcomb leaned a little closer. "Do you know that I feel almost al-most related to you, Mr. Wellington?" "Related?" he echoed, "you? to me? How?" "My husband knew your wife so well." Somehow a wave of jealous rage surged over him, and he growled: "Your husband is a scoundrel." Mrs. Whitcomb's smile turned to vinegar: "Oh, I can't permit you to slander the poor boy behind his back. It was all your wife's fault." Wellington amazed himself by his o.vn bravery when he heard himself volleying back: "And I can't permit you to slander my wife behind her back. It was all your husband' fault." Mrs. Jimmie overheard this behind her back, and it strangely thrilled her. She ignored Ashton's existence and listened for Mrs. Whitcomb's next retort. It consisted of a simple, icy drawl: "I think I'll go to breakfast." She seemid to pick up Ashton with her eyes m she glided by, for, finding himself unnoticed, he rose with a careless: "I think I'll go to breakfast," break-fast," and followed Mrs. Whitcomb. The Wellingtons sat dos-a-dos for some exciting seconds, and then on a sudden impulse, Mrs. Jimmie rose, knelt in he seat and spoke across the back of it: "It was very nice of you to defend me, Jimmie er James." Wellington almost dislocated several sev-eral joints in rising quickly and whirling whirl-ing round at the cordiality of her tone. But his smile vanished at her last word. He protested, feebly: "James sounds so like a a butler. Can't you call me Little Jimmie again?" Mrs. Wellington smiled Indulgently: Indulgent-ly: "Well, since it's the last time. Good-bye, Little Jimmie." And she put out her hand. He salted it hungrily hun-grily and clung to it: "(iood-bye? aren't you getting off at Reno?" "Yes. but" "So am I Lucretia." "But we can't afford tb be seen together." to-gether." Still holding her hand, he tempo rized: "We've got to stay married for six months at least while we establish estab-lish a residence. Couldn't we er couldn't we establish a residence er together?" Mrs. Wellington's eyes grew a little sad, as she answered: "It would be too lonesome waiting for you to roll home." Jimmie stared at her. He felt the regret in her voice and took strange courage from it. He hauled from his pocket his huge flask, and said quickly: quick-ly: "Well, if you're jealous of this, I'll promise to cork it up forever." She -shook her head skeptically: "You couldn't." "Just to prove it," he said, "I'll chuck it out of the window." He flung up the sash and made ready to hurl his enemy into the flying landscape. land-scape. "Bravo!" cried Mrs. Wellington. But even as his hand was about to let go, he tightened his clutch again, and pondered: "It seems a shame to waste it." "I thought so," said Mrs. Jimmie, drooping perceptibly. Her husband began to feel that, after all, she cared what became of him. "I'll tell you," he said, "I'll give 1: to old Doc Temple. He takes hi: straight." "Fine!" He turned towards the seat where the clergyman and his wife were sitting, sit-ting, oblivious of the drama of recon ciliatlon playing so close at hand. Little Jimmie paused, caressed the flask, and kissed it. "Good-bye, old playmate!" Then, tossing his head with bravado, he reached out and touched the clergyman's shoulder. Dr. Temple turned and rose with a questioning ques-tioning look. Wellington put the flas.k in his hand and chuckled: "Meriy Christinas!" . "But, my good man " the preacher objected, finding in his hand a donation dona-tion about as welcome and ns wleldy as a strange baby. Wellington winked: "It may come in handy tor your patients." And now, struck with a sudden idea, Mrs. Wellington spoke. "Oh. Mrs. Temple." "Yes, my dear." said the Utile old lady, rising. Mrs. Wellington placed in her hand a small portfolio and laughed: "Happy New Year!" Mrs. Temple stared at her gift and gasped: "Great heavens! Your cigars!" cig-ars!" "They'll be such a consolation." Mrs. Wellington explained, "wh;ie tEe doctor Is out with his patients." (TO BE CONTINUED.) |