The Seaforth News, 1918-11-14, Page 6RECIPE FOR HAPPINESS
I Buy all the Victory Bonds you can.
Deposit them in your Bank and add the regular
111 interest coupons.
`i At the end of a short 14 years, draw DOUBLE
your original investment.
NOTHING YOU CAN DO WILL GIVE YOU
A GREATER SENSE OF SATISFACTION;
Donated to the Winning of the War by
THE SALADA TEA CO.
TORONTO
n 692
The Sealer Roo
By Edwin Baird.
CHAPTER V.
"Well, if you ain't the limit!" re -
Marked Miss Plum, eittiug up in bed
Sul(' hugging her knees. Holiest, 1
don't see how you could 'a' done it,
Sura you ain't kiddin' me?"
Winifred, brushing her heavy blond
hair before the crinkly mirror, indic-
ated, without resentment, that she
was not kidding.
"Well, you sure are the limit," re -
recited Miss Plum; and then, etretch-
ing her tired body beneath the sheet,
she. like Oliver Twist, asked for more.
But Winifred had fully narrated the
evening's episode half a dozen times
er more, and had elaborated it and
poliened all details, and there was no-
thing more to tell. She said so, She
also said she was tired. and all she
wanted now was a glass of milk and
her Path and bed. Besides, she was
NURSING
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A Picture
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•u
thinking now of another matter,
upon which she did not care to dwell
-unless persuaded to do so.
She did not mention that; but when
two girle, of similar tastes and habits,
share the same bed in a furnished
room they beeome united by a sort of
telephathy, requiring few words and
no explanation, Miss Henrietta.
Plum, gazing sympathetically at •her
lovely room -mate, saw only her back,
but she read her thoughts unerringly,
She said in a gentler voice:
'Ain't it thrillln,' Win, you meetin'
'im the second time? Jus' like a novel
wasn't it, Win? D'you s'pose you'll
ever see'im again?"
Winifred lowered the hairbrush and
gazed at her reflection in the wavy
mirror, and the deep blue eyes, gaz-
ing back at. her, contained the sane
wistful look which first had attracted
Tom McKay.
"I wonder," she murmured pensive-
ly, and picked up the card from the
bureau, and read, for perhaps the
fiftieth time. the printed words there-
on. "If only he wasn't an auto
agent! And if he only hadn't spoken
to me at the theatre! Why couldn't
he he—something else?"
Again Miss Plum sat up in bed and
c asped her knees with her thin arms,;
her pale gray eyes wide with astonish -1
Ment, "Well, if you ain't the-- What!
!'coo want, anyway? A multimil-I
lioneire?"
"Auto agents," continued Winifred,
"are so sporty, and I'm getting so I
hate sporty men. I hate everything
connected with the city. and I wish
I'd never seen one! I wish I lived on!
a farm! . . Still," she added,)
after a moment's reflection, "he didn't
seem to be that sort at all, come to
think of, it. He seemed well-bred and
kind of quiet. I wonder—"
"What'd he look like?" eagerly
asked the enraptured Miss Plume
"Oh—big? Big and bronzed, and
athletic -looking. He's terribly strong
—for an auto agent. He picked
Dora up as if she was a baby, and
carried her---"
"You've told me that, dear, seven-
ty-'leven times. Maybe he ain't no
auto man after all. Maybe that card
he give you b'longs to somebody else."
Vinifred's blue eyes lit with a sud-
den hope, which as suddenly died
away.
"No," she sighed, braiding her hair
in a thick yellow plait. "It's his, all
right. Ile told me his :-ame, and it
was Irish. I don't remember just
what, but it must have been Patrick
J. Henneberry."
A little later, clad in a blue -flower-
ed dressing robe, she pattered down
the musty hall to the bathroom, and,
later still, glowing rosily, she procur-
ed a bottle of milk from the window
ledge. swallowed the contents, turned.
out the gas, and crept quietly into
bed beside Henrietta.
For five minutes silence embraced
the room. Then, softly: "Win!"
"Yes?"
„'Sleep?"
"No."
"Win, if it should happen he wasn't
a auto man. what would you rather
he'd be?"
A sudden and violent commotion in
the bed denoted that Win, far from
being Sleep y, had turned on her other
side In wide-awake animation,
"D'you know, I was just thinking of
that very same thing! 1 was think-
ing that people who live in the country
'
are the only ones who have any fun in
this world. They're the only ones
who get a square deal these days. s
What do you and I get out of life,
living like beggars in a place like this, 1
working for starvation wages—"
"Well, but what would you rather b
Winifred with indubitable emphasis;
"And I wish he loved ate, find wonted
to marry me, and curry me back to hie
,feria, lint slieekel What's the use,
of 'wishing? louCould ieil by 11111
'e1ot1S'es'anti the Why lie "tallied that lie
ne"or saw a farm in his life, anci
we .idn't know a pif, front a yearling
ht
ear," With this she turned her
it o to the wall anti shaped her
t1• ,tights for sleep; '
While the is sleeping and dreaming
of Tom suppose we look in on him?
Teo exciting events of the last few
helve had left' itis ntind in a i'laaotie
eWiri, 'which disregarded sleep, He
had, of course, forgotten his train,
now screaming arose the western
prairies. Thus we find hitt peeing
his room, and thinking, always think -
in of her.
He thought of the things sire had
said to him tis they strolled along to-
gether, and he wondered now, though
he hadn't then, Whyshe had said so
little of .Flora. Wiy hadn't she told
him who ITora was? Why hadn't she
explained !tow she happened to know
such a girl, and whys she was so con-
cerned about her? Why had she made
such a mystery of the thing? And
what did all this signify?
He shrank front naming the obvious
answer, even to himself; and yet it
lay coiled in the back of Itis mind, as
poisonous as a cobra and, ready to
spring and devour him, contributed no
little to his sleeplessness.
Once, in his restless striding to and
fro, he was stung by a poignant re
Bret that he had come to Chicago
or, 'having come, that he had encount
erect her. If he hadn't met her he
would bo sleeping now, instead of
euffering this torment. As matters
etood—well, here he was 'insanely in
love with a• girl whom he scarcely
knew, of wlmse existence he was un-
aware eight hours ago, and who, if in-
dications augured aright, could never
became his wife.
"And even if she could," he savage
ly muttered, "she probably wouldn't."
Strangely this thought eased his
turmoil and, calmed somewhat, he
threw away his cigar and began un-
dressing.
Finally he went to he. And his
Lest conscious thought, before he slip-
ped into a troubled sleep, -was this'
"It doesn't .matter to rno what she
is. I'll quit worrying about her, She
may be straight, or she may not: -.-but
she wouldn't marry a farmer, any-
way."
The next morning after leaving the
hotel be paused irresolute, striving to
conquer the impulse to go forthwith
to her home.
A taxicab chauffeur, eying him
speculatively, neatly solved the prob-
lem.
Taxi, sir?"
"Yes," said Tom, and gave him her
address.
He was received at the rooming
house by Mrs. Peter Stookey, the land-
lady.
Miss Snow," said she in response to
his question, 9if tairly this nta-admin'
for the horspital, And your name
now," she added, surveying him with
kuicicening interest, "isn't ut Pathrick
en'rleberry?r,
"No. It's Tom McKay."
"Is ut now?" said Mrs. Stookey,
patsintly disappointed, "Well, well!
Thin ye re not the young man what
saved the life of Dora Kirk last
night."
"I suppose I 'helped a little," said
Tom, turning to go, "but Winifred—
Miss Snow—did a great deal more
than I."
The motherly eyes of Mrs. Stookey,
following him down the precipitous
stairs, expressed a bewilderment too
profound for words.
But Toni was hurrying back to the
taxi, his anind intent on one thing
alone, and so he failed to perceive the
perplexity he had occasioned.
"Where
�„ to,boss?" askedthe chauf-
feur. •
County hospital," said Tom, jump-
ing in and slamming the door.
They reached their destination too
late. Winifred, Tom was told in the
superintendent's office, had departed
five minutes ago.
He immediately thought of foilow-
ing her, and then, recognizing the dif-
ficulty here ---for none knew where she
had gone ,it eeemed,—he asked if he
might speak to Miss Dora Kirk, who
the doctor said, was "recovering nice-
ly,"
His request was granted, an atten-
dant was told to conduct him to her
ward, and presently stood beside her
cot in a long, white room of many
such cots, in which the air hung heavy
with the smell of drugs, and where
white -gowned nurses moved silently
about their duties. He looked drown
oto her wasted face, and when she
smiled feebly up at hhn with apolo-
getic friendliness, a sharp compassion
urged within him. Her unnaturally
arge eyes and chalk -white skin made
him think, somehow, of a dark weed
grown in a sunless spot, He pitied
er from the depths of his heart.
"I dunno how to thank you, Mr.
Henneberry—" she began, in a thin
little voice.
"Please don't try" he interrupted.
"Everything's all right now, I hope.
But why do you call me Henneberry?
It's not my name, although you're the
second person to -day to think sol"
Her sunken eyes widened in puz-
zled surprise. Her lips parted ques-
tioningly.
"Why, that's funny, Win said—
Who are you then, if you ain't Mr,
Henneberry1'1
He told her his name and his oe-
eupation, and while the was marveling
at this disclosure he asked concerning
herself.
"Couse you'll want to know," she
answered, 'how Win come to hook
up 'with a Moll like me—"
(To be continued,)
"1 wish he was a farmer;" said
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