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Show EXCUSE h y,m .iii.h f ..-phi ! Hfii Novelized from the Comedy of the Same Name By ILLUSTRATED Rupert From Photographs ol th Play as Produced Hughe By Henry W. Savafe Cuirltfht, lull, by u. K. r l Co. SYNOPSIS. , T.lent. Hurry Mallory Is ordered to the Philippines. He ami Marjorie Newton deride to t-lopc, lint wr-i'k of laxleab pre-ventH pre-ventH !ht;!r seeing minister on the way to the train. Transcontinental train Is taking tak-ing on pa-sseiiKers. I'orter has a lively lime with an Kniillshman and Tra I.ath-rop. I.ath-rop. a Yankee business man. The elopers have an exciting tlnie cetlintf to the train. "Utile Jlmmle" WelllnKlon, bound fur Reno to fcet a divorce, board train In maudlin condition, letter Mrs. jlmmle appears. CHAPTER IV. (Continued.) When he managed to wrench his skull free, he was ready to murder his tormentor. But as soon as lie confronted con-fronted the doddering and blinking toper, lie was helpless. Drunlten men iiave always been treated wllh great tenderness in America, and when Wei-, lington, seeing Lathroy's white hair, exclaimed with npture: "Why, hello, I'op! here's Pop!" the most that Lath-rop Lath-rop could do was to tear loose those fat, groping hands, slap them like a school teacher, and push the man away. But that one shove upset Mr. Wellington Wel-lington and sent him toppling down upon the pit of the Englishman's stomach. stom-ach. For Wedgewood, It was suddenly as If all the air had been removed from (he world. He gulped like a flBh drowning for lack of water. He was a long while getting breath enough Tor words, but his first words were wild demands that Mr. Wellington remove himself forthwith. Wellington accepted the banishment with the sorrowful eyes of a dying deer, and tottered away wagging his fat head and wailing: "I'm a broken-hearted man, and nobody no-body gives a ." At this point he ca- romed over Into Ira Lathrop's berth and was welcomed with a savage roar: "What the devil's the matter with you?" "I'm a broken-hearted man, that's all." "Oh, Is that all," Lathrop 'snapped, vanishing behind his newspaper. The desperately melancholy seeker for a word of human kindness bleared at the blurred newspaper wall a while, then waded into a new attempt at acquaintance. ac-quaintance. Laying his hand on Lathrop's Lath-rop's knee, he stammered: "Ess-,cuzhe "Ess-,cuzhe me, Mr. Mr " From behind the newspaper came a :Stingy answer: "Lathrop's my name if you want to know." "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Lothrop." "Lathrop!" "Lathrop! My name's Wellington. LI'l Jimmie Wellington. Ever hear of me?" He waited with the genial smile of a famous man; the smile froze at Lathrop's curt, "Don't think so." He tried again: "Ever hear of well-known Chicago belle, Mrs. Jim-:mie Jim-:mie Wellington?" "Yes, I've heard of her!" Wellington waved his hand with -.modest pride. "Well, I'm Jimmie." "Serves you right" This jolt was so discourteous that Wellington decided to protest: "Mister "Mis-ter Latham!" "Lathrop!" The name came out with a whip-snap. whip-snap. He tried to echo It, "La-throp!" "I don't like that Throp. That's a kind of a seasick name, isn't It?" Finding Find-ing the newspaper still Intervening between be-tween him and his prey, he calmly tore It down the middle and pushed through it like a moon coming through a cloud. "But a man can't change his name by marrying, can he? That's the worst of It. A woman can. Think of a heartless cobra di capello In woman's wom-an's form wearing my fair name and wearing It out. Mr. La-throp, did you ever put your trust In a false-hearted woman?" "Never put my trust In anybody." "Didn't you ever love a woman?" "No!" "Well, then, didn't you ever marry a woman?" "Not one. I've had the measles and the mumps, but I've never had matrimony." matri-mony." "Oh, lucky man," beamed Wellington. Welling-ton. "Hang on to your luck." "I Intend to," said Lathrop, "I was born single and I like It." "Oh, how I envy you! You see, Mrs. Wellington she's a queen among women, mind you a queen among women, but she has the 'stravagance Df a " Lathrop had endured all he could endure, even from a privileged character charac-ter like little Jimmy Wellington. He rose to take refuge In the smoking-room. smoking-room. But the very vigor of this departure de-parture (inly served to belp Wellington Welling-ton to hta feet, for he seized Lathrop's coat and Iiung on, through the door, down (he little corridor, always ex-Tlainlng: ex-Tlainlng: ; Mti Wellington Is a queen among rt ti n:!r.d you, but 1 can't stand' , , i " lunger." He had hardly squeezed Into the smoking-room when the porter and an usher almost Invisible under the baggage bag-gage they carried brought in a new passenger. Her first question was: "Oh, porter, did a box of flowers, cr candy, or anything, come for me?" "What name would they be In, miss?" "Mrs. Wellington Mrs. James Wellington." Wel-lington." CHAPTER V. A Queen Among Women. Miss Anne Gattle, seated in Mrs. Jimmie Wellington's seat, had not heard Mr. Jimmie Wellington's sketch of his wife. But she needed hardly more than a glance to satisfy herself that she and Mrs. Jimmie were as hopelessly antipathetic as only two polite po-lite women can be. Mrs. Jimmie was accounted something some-thing of a snob In Chicago society, but perhaps the missionary was a trifle the snohbisher of the two when they met. Miss Gattle could overlook a hundred hun-dred vices In a Zulu queen more easily than a few in a fellow countrywoman. She did not like Mrs. Jimmie, and she was proud of It. When the porter said, "I'm afraid you got this lady's seat," Miss Gattle Gat-tle shot one glance at the Intruder and rose stiffly. "Then I suppose I'll have to " "Oh, please don't go, there's plenty of room," Mrs. Wellington Insisted, pressing her to remain. This nettled Miss Gattle still more, but she sank back, while the porter plied up expensive ex-pensive traveling-bags and hat boxes till there was hardly a place to sit. But even at that Mrs. Jimmie felt called on to apologize: "I haven't brought much luggage. How I'll ever live four days with this, I can't imagine. It will be such a relief re-lief to get my trunks at Reno." "Reno?" echoed Miss Gattle. "Do you live there?" "Well, theoretically, yes." "I don't understand you." "I've got to live there to get It." "To get it? Oh!" A look of sudden and dreadful realization came over the missionary. Mrs. Wellington interpreted inter-preted it with a smile of gay defiance: "Do you believe in divorces?" Anne Gattle stuck to her guns. "I must say I don't. I think a law ought to be passed stopping them." "So do I," Mrs. Wellington amiably agreed, "and I hope they'll pass just such a law after I get mine." Then she ventured a little shaft of her own. "You don't believe in divorces. I judge you've never been married." "Not once!" The spinster drew herself her-self up, but Mrs. Wellington disarmed her with an unexpected bouquet: "Oh, lucky woman! Don't let any heartless man delude you Into taking the fatal step." Anne Gattle was nothing if not honest. hon-est. She confessed frankly: "I must say that nobody has made any violent efforts to compel me to. That's why I'm going to China." "To China!" Mrs. Wellington gasped, hardly believing her ears. "My dear! You don't intend to marry a laundryman?" "The idea! I'm going as a missionary." mission-ary." "A missionary? Why leave Chicago?" Chica-go?" Mrs Wellington's eye softened more or less convincingly: "Oh, lovely! love-ly! How I should dote upon being a missionary. I really think that after I get my divorce I might have a try at it. I had thought of a convent, but being a missionary must be much more exciting." She dismissed the dream with an abrupt shake of the head. "Excuse me, but do you happen to have any matches?" "Matches! I never carry them!" "They never have matches in the women's room, and I've used my last one." Miss Gattle took another reef in her tight lips. "Do you smoke cigarettes?" Mrs. Wellington's echoed disgust with disgust: "Oh, no, indeed. I loathe them. I have the most dainty little cigars. Did you ever try one?" Miss Gattle stiffened into one exclamation excla-mation point: "Cigars! Me!" Mrs. Jimmie was so well used to being disapproved of that it never disturbed her. She went on as if the face opposite were not alive with horror: hor-ror: "I should think that cigars might be a great consolation to a lady missionary mis-sionary in the long lone hours of what do missionaries do when they're not missionarying?" "That depends." There was something almost spiritual spirit-ual in Mrs. Jimmie's beatific look: "I can't tell you what consolation my cigars have given me in my troubles. Mr. Wellington objected but then Mr. Wellington objected to nearly everything every-thing I did. That's why I am forced to this dreadful step." "Cigars?" "Divorces." "Divorces!" "Well, this will be only my second my other was such a nuisance. I got that from Jimmie, too. But it didn't take. Then we made up and remarried. re-married. Rather odd, having a second honeymoon with one's first husband. But remarriage didn't succeed any better. Jimmie fell off the water-wagon water-wagon with an awful splash, and he quite misunderstood my purely Platonic Pla-tonic Interest in Sammy Whitcomb, a nice young fellow with a fool of a wife. Did you ever meet Mrs. Sammy Whitcomb no? Oh, but you are a lucky woman! Indeed you are! Well, when Jlmmle got jealous, I just gave him up entirely. I'm running away to Reno. I sent a note to my husband's club, saying that I had gone to Europe, and he needn't try to find me. Poor fellow, he will. He'll hunt the continent conti-nent high and low for me, but all the vhile I'll be in Nevada. Rather good joke on little Jlmmle, eh?" "Excruciating." "But now I must go. Now I must go. I've really become aulte addicted to them." "Divorces ?" "Cigars. Do ;ay here till I com back. I have -j much to s&y to you." Miss Gattle iiaook her head in despair. de-spair. She covH understand a dozen heathen dlalcts better than the speech of so mwr a foreigner as her fellow-countrywoman. Mrs. Jimmie hastened away. Tather pleased at the shocks she had wiminlstered. In the corridot she administered another an-other thrill this time to a tall young man a stranger, as alert for flirtation as a weasel for mischief. He huddled himself and his suitcases into as flat a space as possible, murmuring: "These corridors are so narrow, aren't they?" "Aren't they?" said Mrs. Jimmie. "So sorry to trouble you." "Don't mention it" She passed on, their glances fencing like playful foils. Then she paused: "Excuse me. Could you lend me a match? They never have matches in the Women's Room." Ho succeeded in producing a box after much shifting of burdens, and he was rewarded with a look and a phrase: "You have saved my life." He started to repeat his "Don't mention it," but it seemed inappropriate, inappropri-ate, so he said nothing, and she vanished van-ished behind a door. He turned away, saying to himself that It promised to be a pleasant journey. He was halted by another voice another woman's voice: "Pardon me, but is this the car for Reno?" He turned to smile, "I believe so!" Then his eyes widened as he recognized recog-nized the speaker. "Mrs. Sammy Whitcomb!" It promised to be a curious journey. CHAPTER VI. A Conspiracy In Satin. The tall man emptied one hand of Its suitcase to clasp the hand the newcomer new-comer granted him. He held It fast as he exclaimed: "Don't tell me that you are bound for Reno!" She whimpered:, whim-pered:, "I'm afraid so, Mr. Ash ton." He put down everything to take her other hand, and tuned his voice to condolence: "Why, I thought you and Sam Whitcomb were " "Oh, we were until that shameless Mrs. Wellington " "Mrs. Wellington? Don't believe I know her." "I thought everybody had heard of Mrs. Jlmmle Wellington." "Mrs. Jlmmle oh, yes, I've heard of her!" "What a dance she has led her poor husband!" Mrs. Whitcomb said. "And my poor Sammy fell into her trap, too." Ashton, zealous comforter, took a wrathful tone: "I always thought your husband was the most unmitigated " But Mrs. Whitcomb bridled at once. "How dare you criticize Sammy! He's the nicest boy in the world." Ashton recovered quickly. "That's what I started to say. Will he contest the divorce?" "Of course not," she beamed. "The dear fellow would never deny me anything. any-thing. Sammy offered to get it himself, him-self, but I told him he'd better stay in Chicago and. stick to business. I shall need such a lot of alimony." "Too bad he couldn't have come along," Ashton Insinuated. But the irony was wasted, for she I j f v v" Jimmie Wellngton. sighed: "Yes, I shall miss him terribly. ter-ribly. But we feared that if he were with me it might hamper me in getting get-ting a divorce on the ground of desertion." de-sertion." She was trying to look earnest and thoughtful and heartbroken, but the result was hardly plausible, for Mrs. Sammy Whitcomb could not possibly have been really earnest or really thoughtful; and her heart was quite too elastic to break. She proved it Instantly, for when she heard behind her the voice of a young man asking her to let him pass, she turned to protest, pro-test, but seeing that he was a oand-some oand-some young man, her starch was Instantly In-stantly changed to sugar. And she rewarded re-warded his good looks wlti a smile, as he rewarded hers with another. (TO BE CONTINUED. |