The Daily Transcript (Norman, Okla.), Vol. 4, No. 273, Ed. 1 Monday, June 18, 1917 Page: 3 of 5
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THE NORMAN DAILY TRANSCRIPT
CLOTniNG
L0UI5<J05EPIi
VAflCE
AUTHOR °/ "THE: lone:
wolf," "the: brass
50WL/TTC.
COPYRIGHT BT LOUIS JOSEPH VANCE
LYDIA BEGINS TO SUSPECT HER FATHER OF DECEIVING
HER IN SOME MANNER AND SHE IS DEEPLY GRIEVED
-SOME MYSTERIOUS THING SCARES HIM
Synopsis—Lydla Craven, traveling as Lucy Carteret, runs away
from her English home to go to her father, Thadileus Craven, in New
York, whom she hasn't seen for five years. Three days out on board
the steamer Alsatia, she runs plump into Craven, making love to Mrs.
Merrilees, a young widow, engaged to marry him. Later Craven ex-
plains his mysterious conduct and supposed bachelorhood by telling
Lydla he is a British secret service agent in America. She is attacked
at night and a small box containing supposed valuable documents,
which he has given her to keep for him, is stolen. Quoin, an amateur
detective, recovers it for her, and wheu the party lauds at New York,
Lydia, carrying the box openly, has no trouble passing the customs in-
spection. When Mrs. Merrilees declares a $00,000 necklace and the
inspector finds it an imitation worth $.300, she is held and searched as a
smuggler. Despite past tricks, however, Mrs. Merrilees is honest this
time.
CHAPTER X—Continued.
—12—
After a brief conference he turned
back to Lydia and Peter. "A bad busi-
ness!" he doubted in an undertone,
wagging his head. "Betty's played the
game straight as a die this trip; but
nothing on earth will make these peo-
ple believe that, after the way she's
carried on in the past. Looks like an
all-day session—no good your sticking
round: nothing either of you can do.
Quoin and I will stand by Betty; but
you'd better cut along. You won't mind
dropping Lydia at the Great Eastern
hotel, Peter?"
"No—I won't precisely what you
might call mind," Peter declared,
brightening.
"I engaged rooms by wireless yester-
day. It'll take a day or two, you know,
to readjust my diggings to receive a
daughter. Now clear out—like good
children!*•
Lydla bade hurried farewells. Giving
Quoin her hand, she hoped he wouldn't
forget to call, as he'd promised. Quoin
was persuaded that such oversight
would be symptomatic of insanity. His
tone was light; but his direct and pene-
trating gaze embarrassed the girl, and
she was fluttered by consciousness that
her cheeks were unaccountably aglow,
her fingers tremulous In his firm grasp.
Betty Merrilees offered a cool cheek
to Lydia's lips. "Don't worry about
me!" she protested pettishly. "Besides,
in your heart of hearty,you believe I'm
guilty—you know you do!"
"I don't!" Lydia Insisted, and in the
next breath, "You didn't—honestly?"
Betty's mood melted transiently.
"Honest Injun!" she declared with
mirth In her voice, but downright can-
dor in the eyes that held Lydia's. "And
I don't blame anyone for climbing up
on the fence, either," she added in
cryptic phrase, "all except these de-
spicable customs men!"
Peter's town car was waiting at the
pier entrance, and when he had helped
her Into It, Lydia, looking out through
the limousine door, viewed a section of
the throng of passengers waiting for
taxicabs, in the forefront of which
stood two men.
One faced her and first attracted at-
tention by his singularly persistent
stare—a stoutish body, by no means
tall, snug in a braided morning coat—
the London mode, glossy topper, white
spats and all, down to the silver-mount-
ed stick of malacca—wearing a humor-
ous eye in his square-jawed, scarlet
face—one who would readily pass cur-
rent as an elderly and retired gentle-
man of means, with a penchant for
good cooking and outdoor life.
His companion, some inches taller
and built upon more rakish lines, stood
half turned aside so that she could see
little more than the salient line of a
dark, lean cheek, and a long and nar-
row back-head. But that was quite
enough to make her sit up with a start,
remembering that she had seen him
once before In precisely that pose, out-
side the window of her stateroom. He
turned for a moment toward her bring-
ing to her view his right eye—covered
by a black patch!
Happily Peter chose that moment to
climb Into the car, and so blocked out
the disturbing vision. On the other
hand, he was quick to note the evi-
dence of her distress.
"Hello!" he cried In deep concern.
"What's up? Surely you're not feeling
111!"
She shook her head vigorously, and
In heedless agitation raised a gloved
hand and pointed. "Peter, who is that
man—the tall one, there, with the
black patch over bis eye?"
"Which? Oh, I see!" Here the car
drew away, so that Black Patch was no
longer visible. "I'm not dead sure,"
Peter resumed, "but he looks a heap
like a chap Quoin pointed out In the
smoking room one night—one of a
brace of deep-sea sharks we had
aboard. Chap with a queer name—
Lefty—no, I've got It—Southpaw
Smith. Why do you ask? You cer-
tainly can't know the fellow!"
Lydla sank back Into her corner,
with a head awhlrl. "No," she said, '
"no, I don't know him. I—he—some-
how reminded me of something very
unpleasant"
CHAPTER XI.
From the manner of the room clerk
Lydla Inferred that tne name of Thad-
deus Craven was well esteemed by the
management of the Great Eastern. Nor
was this Impression at all modified by
the rooms to which she was shown—a
suite so complete and luxurious in ap-
pointments that its appeal was strong
to the sybaritic strain with Which
heredity had endowed the girl.
Toward six o'clock she dropped, worn
out. Into an armchair beside an open
window In the living room. Wearily
the girl's eyelids drooped. Insensibly
she drowsed, drifting into a sort of
halfwaklng nightmare, wherein she
with her father waged Incessant war
against powers of darkness, shapeless,
featureless, inscrutably malign—
The last rays of the sinking sun flood-
ed her face, even as It impregnated her
dream, vvith the hue of blood. Twilight,
succeeding, caught together the gap-
ing arras of the sky. Minutes wove a
web of hours—
Abruptly Lydla found herself on her
feet, a low cry shuddering In her
throat, aware that the room was ablaze
with light, that she was no longer
alone. Then, calming, she realized
nothing more terrible than Craven's
return.
He stood near the center of the room,
staring, evidently at a loss to account
for her agitation, his face slightly
flushed yet lowering.
"Well?" he demanded sharply. "What
the deuce Is the matter with you?"
You—you startled me," she fal-
tered with a tremulous smile. "I must
have fallen asleep, waiting for you—
and then I had a horrible dream—"
Craven's look swept her from head
to foot, captious and ugly. "You
haven't dressed," he said—meaning
that she hadn't changed for dinner.
"Been asleep long?"
"Why—some hours, I presume. What
time Is It? It was Just sunset, the last
I knew."
"After nine o'clock now. Then you've
had no dinner?"
Lydla shook her head. "I was wait-
ing for you."
"You shouldn't have/' he grumbled.
"Thought I told you not to count on
me. I've been busy of course, flying
round all afternoon, getting Betty set-
tled. Otherwise should have been home
long ago."
"I have been worried about Betty-
Mrs. Merrilees—"
"Oh, that business!" He smiled
grimly. "It was over sooner than I ex-
pected. Unpleasant for her—to submit
to being searched by a female Inspec-
tor. But of course they found nothing,
and had to let her go. And now she's
threatening all manner of trouble."
"Then (he necklace was really
stolen? I'm so sorry!"
"Yes." Craven eyed her curiously
for an instant. "Yes, It was stolen,
right enough, and a clean-cut job, If
you ask me. The thief must have been
laying for somebody to buy the thing.
He had the counterfeit all ready, of
course."
"But that's what I don't understand."
"Simplest thing In the world.
Chance Is he fqund the copy ready made
to his hand. Nine out of ten oT these
smart Frenchwomen, like the original
owner of the collar, have their best
pieces duplicated In paste for public
wear. Somehow or other he must have
got hold of that The only question Is,
when did he make the substitution?
Betty swears It was the genuine ar-
ticle she received, and it hasn't been
out of her possession since, except
while in the purser's safe, and when I
brought it to her, up there in the
veranda cafe, day before yesterday.
Looks as if it was up to the purser—
unless you care to point the well-known
finger of suspicion at me—or Peter!"
"How absurd!"
"Think so? Well, I'm glad you do,
my dear." His humor had softened.
Drawing near, he pinched her cheek
affectionately. "Not that there's any i
reason for yon to worry. Only, if Betty
still wants to play Lady Bountiful at
your wedding, she'll have to disburse
the price of another necklace."
"Daddy! As If I thought of that !H
"Probably you don't, being yourself.
Still—you'll marry some day, and pearl
collars don't grow on every bough of
orange blossoms."
"I'm not thinking of being married,"
Lydia murmured, looking away.
"Oh, I presume not—no more than
the next girl of your age! Nothing do-
ing with Peter Traft, eh?"
"Oh, daddy! Don't be silly!"
Lydla met his guze fairly and hon-
estly, laughter In her eyes, and Craven
accepted her disclaimer without ques-
tion.
"Well, I'm sorry for Peter. He's a
good boy—well off too. And he's mighty
ftfDIIg for you. Mustn't N't yours,-It bt
misled by Peter's reputation. Just be-
cause he's got the name of a gay young
butterfly Is no real reason why he
shouldn't be In dead earnest this time."
"I wish you wouldn't say such
things."
"Well—don't forget him, when you
do come to think of marrying. And,"
Craven dismissed the subject airily, "of
course you would be happier as mis-
tress of your own establishment than—
well—playing second fiddle In mine.
Had he slapped her the girl could
hardly have suffered deeper pain anc*
humiliation. He wanted to be rid o>
her! That truth was out at last. How-
ever kindly Craven's primal Impulse to
deceive, the time had come when he
could or would no longer dissemble.
Her thoughts worked swiftly. Since
he found her a drag, she must cease to
be such at once—instantly—tonight
Until she could find some way to be-
come self-supporting the hospitable
doors of Mrs. Beggarstaff's home of-
fered a haven where Lydia felt sure
of finding a welcome, sympathy, affec-
tion.
With a brisk tread and a cheerful
countenance Craven returned to the sit-
ting room. "Hello! What's troubling
my girl? Something on your mind, eh?"
She eyed him gravely. "Do you real-
ly want me to marry Peter Traft?" she
demanded.
"Why consult my desires? You'll do
as you please anyway—Just as I did at
your age. It's a good match, and If you
find you care enough for the young-
ster," he raised his hands In mock bene-
diction, "bless you, my children! But
—upon my word!—never can tell about
you women. Only two minutes ago—"
"That was when I still believed you
wanted me with you, when I thought 1
might be a help to you, not an obstacle
In the path of your happiness. Better
to marry at once—the first bidder—and
repent too late, If that must be—than
to know I'm In your way."
"Llddy, my dear little girl!" The
tone was fond, the smile indulgent; but
with sharpened vision she saw through
the pretense.
"No!" she cried passionately. "No!
Don't—don't waste time trying to de-
ceive me, daddy!"
Turning she stumbled blindly Intc
her bedroom, shut the door, and threw
herself across the bed, sobbing.
After some time the door latch
clicked. "Liddy!"
The girl made no answer. She
couldn't; she was struggling to hush/
her sobs.
"Liddy!" Craven came to her side,
and seated himself on the bed. "Little
girl," he said, with melancholy, "you've
hurt me terribly, misjudged me sc
cruelly. But no matter. I realize that
you don't understand."
He touched her hair caressingly. She
suffered this without response. To-
night her wits were keyed to a pitch ol
divination. Beneath the cloying ten-
derness in his accents she read the
truth too clearly.
"I've Just telephoned for dinner. It'll
be up presently, and I want you to try
to eat something. Get up, please, and
dry your eyes, compose yourself, and
be fair to me."
"Very well," Lydla said stiffly, with-
out stirring.
With a final approving pat Craven
rose. "Thank you, my dear," he said
gently. He sighed, moved toward the
door, but there paused. "By the way,"
he observed carelessly, "that thing 1
gave you the other night—the puzzle
box—it Is safe, I presume?"
"Yes," said Lydia, sitting up. "Do
you want it?"
"If convenient."
Without another answer she rose and
went to the bureau, found her hand-
bag, produced the puzzle box, and
silently, with averted face, gave it to
her father.
His footsteps were audible crossing
the sitting room. Then she heard him
closing his bedchamber door.
With some effort Lydia pulled her-
self together, rose, bathed her face and
eyes with cold water, then sought her
mirror to survey and repair as best she
could the ravages of tears.
IN NEW DISGUISE
Only a sharp eye would detect In
the very dashing blue wool Jersey of
French blue, shown In the accompany-
ing sketch, the lurking mother hub-
bard of two decades agone. But It Is
even more simple, for there Is not a
yoke. The Jersey cloth, which is very
broldered prettily In a scroll triangle,
says the Kansas City Star. This band
barely reaches to the una pits, where
it is attached to the dress with a
stitching. At the waistline two long
sashes are attached and these slip
through triangles of embroidery fas-
tened to the dress behind, cross and
are left to hang loosely In front. There
is a border of chain stitching round
the hem which does not appear in the
picture.
Mother Hubbard Up to-Date.
wide, is plain press plaited from shoul-
der to ankle. The neck Is cut square
across and a band of pearl gray wool
chalnstitch embroidery is laid across
the shoulders behind to hold the plaits
In place.
In front is a very broad, straight
band hemmed on each side and em-
BRIGHTENING UP THE FROCK
Any Qirl With Clever Fingers Can
Get Attractive Effects by Use of
8tenciled Designs.
The girt who is clever at stenciling
can brighten up an afternoon frock
or outing costume by having the cra-
vat, the sash and the cuffs finished
with stenciled ends. A more elaborate
effect may be gained by using fringes
in conjunction with the stenciling, the
two matching in color.
Also if one has the time and pa-
tience combined with the knowledge,
the suit of oyster-colored shantung,
or of satin georgette, may be over-
spread with a deep border of some
simple stenciled design. Usually It Is
correct tt) have the skirt plain and
the decoration confined to the hem of
the coat, the collar and the cuffs.
Do you suspect Craven of be-
Ing up to some trickery? Why
should he become grouchy to his
daughter? There is a big devel-
opment of the story in the next
installment
CASE FOR PAPER PATTERNS
Handy Receptacle for This Purpose
Can Be Made From Remnant
of Fairly Strong Material.
Many women possess some favorite
paper patterns that they frequently
use, and If they are not taken great
care of they are liable to become dam-
aged and useless, or perhaps lost alto-
gether, and they are sometimes rather
difficult to obtain again. It Is, there-
fore, well worth while to make a case
in which different kinds can be kept
separate from each other, so that ruiy
particular pattern can be selected
without trouble.
The sketch shows a good type of
case to prepare for this purpose. It
can be carried out with a remnant of
any fairly strong materlul and lined
with thin silk or sateen. It Is bound
where Indicated with narrow ribbon
and the back and front are stiffened
with pieces of card sewn in between
HOST OF MILITARY FASHIONS
Where All the Patriotic Frocks and
Capes Came From 8o Suddenly
Is Interesting Question.
The shops have blossomed forth
with military fashions.
Just where they got all the red.
white and blue bedecked garments,
nobody knows. Of course, It was a
comparatively easy matter for some
energetic manufacturer to have strips
of the three uatlonal colors stitched
to a lot of silk gloves, or for another
to have red, white and blue pipings
added to an almost finished batch of
organdie neckwear. But where did all
the military frocks and capes come
from?
They are here, anyway, and they
are very attractive. There are khaki
skirts, that would be admirable for
the woman who Intends to do her part
iu the farming world this summer;
they are decorated with shields and
other Insignia in the national colors
on the pockets. There are all sorts
of capes with a military look. Some
of them are braided, some are
trimmed generously with brass but*
tons. There are blue serge frocks that
almost set one cheering, they so sug-
gest a military parade. And so on It
goes.
When the European war began Paris
launched a few military styles. They
were accepted at first with enthusi-
asm, but later on other styles super-
ceded them.
FOR "OVER-SIZE" FIGURES
POMe STIC
scientist ^
vwatAce iRwtN
TOGO BECOMES A FIRE HERO
Hon. Dear Sir: Another plac« where I atn habitually absent can b«
found at home of Hon. Mrs. & Mr. Susan J. Fogg, Turnvereln, Conn. I was
burnt away from that place because of my heroism. I tell you how was
This Mrs. Fogg lady reside with her husband and furnture In a resi-
dence, which are covered with extremely wooden decorations, which talented
sculptors have cut out with saws. She say It Is one Queen Annie house. Per-
haps so It Is. Maybe this Annie wero empress of Coney island to build
such merry architecture.
Hon. Mrs Boss are considerable proud of he- house & what Is Inside.
"Togo," she otter with serious eyebrows, "there Is not onn drop of fire
Insurance on this house!"
So Hon. Mrs. Fogg donate to me one smallish volume of book entitled
"First Ade to Fires." This literature which Is bound In 4th of July color, tell
me following Information about Are when he gets loose:
"Chlmbleys are most dangerous articles to have around a house beeause
they gets clogged with soot, thusly causing inllammatlon of the roof which
creates blazes and burns Insurance. Total loss. Best way to put out a mad
chlmbley is to sprinkle salt down him until he quits.
"In case of houseaflre, human folks must be saved before all other fur
nlture, because they are most combustible. This ran he did by throwing
wet blanket over them and dragging them forth. Valuable heirlooms can be
saved from burning house by taking them out."
I read this Instructions, Mr. Editor, and feel prepared for anything.
This Mrs. Fogg got one Irish cooklady name of Hilda Kati. Hon. Hilda
are beautiful, except her face and Bgure, which are not. She enjoy very
sorry romance, because of Hon. Wm., a hack-driver, who drove away with
another fiancee and remain there. Consequent of this, Hon. Hilda weep &
cook nearly all time.
"Togo," she report to me, while making tears and pies, "never promise
to marry any gentleman In the livery-stable business."
"I shall avoid tils peril firmly," 1 narrate.
"67 doz. assorted love-letters this Wm. sent me. And what usefulness
are they now?" Weeps by her.
"They might make a sad novel, If printed among pictures," I say so.
She peel onions with Romeo expression.
But I wore too busy being a fire-detective to think of Wm. and his escape
from love. Nearly each hour by clock time Hon. Mrs. would come to me and
talk underwriter language:
"You hear that smell of smoke?" she require.
It were nice, baltnish evening of summer weather when Mrs and Mr.
Chas Hassock, neighborly persons of quiet fashion, was there to play bridge-
gamble amidst society clothing. Hon. Mr. Fogg, medium gentleman with
tame whiskers, were also there acting like a husband-man.
Bridge-card resume for several hours while those 4 persons sat there
calling each other "Trumps" and other American Insults.
O suddenly!! what was that my nose smelled? Inflammatory smell of
8re!!
With Iced brain I recall what "First Ado to Fires" said about mad chlm-
bleys, so I rosh silently to outside house to see how ours were behaving. 0
lurely yes! Hon. Chlmbley were shooting sparkles & pin-wheels from his en-
raged bricks!
What I do then? With Immediate quickness, I roah to dining room and
grab 2 salt-sellers In my courageous thumbs Making my toes extremely
iwtft, I clomb ladder to roof & scramble along shingles with care peculiar
Large women who appreciate the
svelt lines and excellent style of this
newest of military fashions will be
delighted to hear that this is just one
pleasing example of what has been
accomplished by designers and makers
who specialize In svelt-llne styles for
over-size" figures.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
No Use For Them.
Richard, aged four, accompanied by
bis mother, was watching a regiment
of soldiers, headed by Its band, march-
ing by. "Mamma," he asked, "what's
the use of all them soldiers that don't
make music?"
Playing Safe.
EuseWus was told by his mamma
not to stay to meals at his aunt's with-
out asking her. He was Invited to
dinner and his aunt said she would
ask his mamma hy phone. He said
"Don't ask her, tell her."
Handy Case for Paper Patterns.
the cover and the lining. The case In-
side Is divided Into three compart-
ments, one for blouse patterns, one for
skirt patterns and the other for pat-
terns of underwear. The case fastens
with two push studs, and In the small
sketch on the right It Is shown closed,
and the word "patterns" can be work-
ed upon the front of the flap where
Indicated.
The Cedar Chest.
Procure a large pine packing box;
hinge on the lid and carefully putty
tho cracks. With oil of cedar paint
the Inside of the box, applying It plen-
tifully. When thoroughly dry, cover
the outside of the box with, any pre-
ferred material. The oil cedar re-
tains Its odor for years and Is much
disliked by moths as the cedar wood
Itself.
FASHION'S FANCIES
A gold tissue dinner dress Is com-
pleted by a black tulle and lace hat.
The tailored hat answers for so
many occasions that It Is Indispens-
able.
Linen and serge in the new corn
yellow shade Is a fascinating arrange-
ment
Attention to detail means a great
deal to the smartly gowned woman of
today.
Exquisite bead pendants and neck
ribbons are made by the French sol-
diers and worn with afternoon
dresses.
A new Idea In neckwear Is to have
the edges of the collars and cuffs
bound with a bright-colored checked
material.
Collars are of rose color, Ivory and
blue, rather than white, and are fre-
quently more becoming than lingerie
collars.
Colored beads of all sorts—wooden,
porcelain and composition—are re-
vived for the rosary-fashioned chains
now worn with one-piece frocks.
Quest Towels Are Useful.
Guest towels never fall to catch tht.
eye of those house managers who take
pride in their linen closets. Some use-
ful and distinctive ones show Porto
Rican hand-loom borders. More elabo-
rate ones have genuine filet or Irish
lace Insertions. Insignia-embroidered
on linen have superseded the one-tjme
elegant monogram. Plain sljfl^r'ttnen
towels sometimes showqfieer cabalistic
symbols which only their owners caa
decipher.
I Pepper Conilderable Salt Straight Into the Face of That Mad Chlmbley.
to Thos. Cats. Then, by heroic movements of wrists, I pepper considerable
salt straight Into the face of that mad Chlmbley. Yet he still continue on mak-
ing Vesuvius out of himself.
What nextly must I do? I think of that fire-volume which say, "Human
folks must be saved before all other furniture."
So I scomper to bed room, dragg forth one complete blanket & soush
him In wet water of bath tub. With these blanket held in my firm knuckles,
I ascended downstairs to parlor where Hon. Mrs. Fogg set In her elegant hair
and considerable expensive face-powder calling Mrs. Hassock a "Renlg" lx
bridge-language.
With wetness of blanket, I stand behind Hon. Mrs. Fogg.
"What for?" she holla when she seen me. But before anything else
could collapse, I wound wettlsh blanket round her head.
"Gog!" she report with strangely voice. Yet, before she could narrats
more, I had drogged her forthly to fresh air.
"What Is the moaning of this meanness?" require Hon. Fogg.
"Meaning of Fire!" I yellup. "Why do you stand there making speech-
less talks, when your home is sparking?"
At this oratory of words, everybody begin making hook-andladder move-
ments. Hon. Fogg grabb bird-cage and pair of tongs. Hon. Mrs. save 3 plush
albums. Hon. Hassock attempt to remove sideboard, but It were nailed to
floor. Hon. Mrs. Hassock rosh down street breaking fire-alarms out of tele-
phone poles.
But I were more strong In my strength. With Samurai knuckles, I
grasp cabinet full of cut-up glasswear and roll him down front steps to
lawn. Loud crash! Thusly was valuable dishes saved from Are.
With deer-foot heels, I eloped upstairs to bed room and begin pouring
entire household out of window. Mattress, pitchers, rugs, etc., fell like
Niagara falling. When I threw forth family water-color landscape represent-
ing the face of Aunt Nerissa Hodges, It make boomerang fly-off and struck
on head of Hon. Fogg which went through. Too bad.
I were Just in the heroism of poking brass bedstead through pane
of glass, when Mrs. and Mr. Fogg escorted by Mrs. and Mr. Hassock and
Hon. Hilda Kati, cook-lady, suddenly encroach Into room and seeze me.
"Platoon of brainless mind!" they all hiss like circular snakes. "Who
inform you this house were blaze?"
"Did I not see Hon. Chlmbley spitting rockets?" This from me.
"Sakes of shucks!" commute Hon. Hilda contemptibly. "That were not
house-aflre. That were merely me burning negligent love-letters In kitchen
stove."
Grones by all.
"So my house are not afire!" report Hon. Mrs. for disappoint
"So sorry!" I regret. In distant midnight I could hear rural hose-csLT-
rlage approaching with gongs. "Maybe there was no fire, but this were very
useful practice. Also I was enabled to show you the Iced quality of my in-
telligence. If there had been some fire, I should put It out!"
"You have put nearly everything e^se out," say sorrowfully Hon. Mrs.,
looking outside to moonlight where the entire Interior of her home lay scram-
bled on the lawn.
Hon. Fogg gargle with his teeth.
"Since you are so talented at putting things out," he suggest, "perhaps
you can place yourself elsewheres with immediate rapidness."
I oblige. When nextly observed. I were setting In R. R. Station awaiti
Ing for morning train and feeling quite roasted.
Hoping you are the same,
Yours truly,
HASHIMURA TOGO*
(Copyright, by International Presa Bureau.)
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Burke, J. J. The Daily Transcript (Norman, Okla.), Vol. 4, No. 273, Ed. 1 Monday, June 18, 1917, newspaper, June 18, 1917; Norman, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc113490/m1/3/: accessed April 19, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.