The Daily Transcript (Norman, Okla.), Vol. 5, No. 14, Ed. 1 Monday, July 2, 1917 Page: 3 of 4
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THE NORMAN DAILY TRANSCRIPT
& ALEXANDER POWELL
■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■iSfcli
NOVELP FROM THE MOTION
TURE 5FMOF THE SAME NAME
DUCED' THE SIGNAL FILM CORP.
The dramatic couj which Helen
acquired title to thf>m rights on
the Oregonia and tl>y frustrated
the schemes of tAmnlgamated,
made her a popuhfrolne In the
;amps of the lndepet lumbermen,
who came to regard Ks their cham-
pion in the unequal fgle they were
waging with the gnjonopoly.
With the boom rifin undisputed
possession of one s<*vedly friendly
to their cause, the pendents now
felt that they were«onably secure
from the machlnatj of the trust
But In this concluj she failed to
make allowance fo* whims of na-
ture, which. In Inewer, wider
regions, frequently fed more dan-
gerous and vindlctJhan In settled
The summer andimn which fol-
lowed the filing ofun's claim was
the driest that Utfuberlands had
known within mem f the oldest In-
habitant. In fiveths there had
been little or no rjThe cultivated
lands, ordinarily gld green, were
now brown from cfi. Forest rang-
ers watched night day for fires In
the tlnder-like Where, In
normal years, lei torrents ran,
there were now sbdrled-up water-
courses, even the i rivers such as
the Calapooia and Jregonia having
dwindled Into lnslcant streams.
The question t confronted the
lumbermen was aaow they were to
their logs fr«e forest to the
Vlver at El Capltiund to this ques-
tion there was bie answer possi-
ble. They must pt their pride and
chip over the raf owned by the
This they mlglive been permit-
ted to do without ferenee until the
rains permitted tto resume river
booming, had nofert Holmes, re-
turning from Neork, learned by
*he merest chanoat his competit-
ors were doing, i he got busy.
"Send Carruthiere," ordered the
"What's happelCarruthers?" de-
manded Holmes.che manager ap-
peared. "I see tllway has actual-
ly been making w.
"Account of Independents,"
grunted Carrutl "they've been
forced to ship our Hne, and Oee!
tow It does hurtto do It. This Is
only temporary less, though. As
soon as there's gh water In the
river they'll becoming again."
For some rats Holmes sat
silent, drummlnfhls desk with a
"Carrnthers," lid at last, "we're
not going to catiy more logs for
those fellows, lily playing their
game. They're going to boycott
this railway wthlngs are going
smoothly with tlod then fall back
on It when then trouble. Send
a wire to ClancJDawsonvllIe that
he's not to accejr more shipments
of logs from thependents."
"Think that's " protested Car-
futhers. "It woe Just like that
scrappy bunch to us Into court on
a conspiracy chtor something of
that kind . . . . fcs, If you send a
wire. She's still q Job, you know."
"That's right,'^ed Holmes, "It
wouldn't be safetshe got hold of
• message It wo^nke things very
uncomfortable InAmu rk my words,
Carrnthers, therk d clever
girl ... I think I'n down to Daw-
sonvllle tonight. I'd better come
along and, whllejuk of it, wire
Behrens to meet %e."
"A wire from Molmes, sir," an-
nounced the prlv^cretIlryi enter-
ing as Carruthers1
The message ln^j Holmes that
his wife would leal Francisco by
night train and arr( Seattle In the
"H'ra," grunted lumberman.
"Wire Mrs. Holmcd ave the train
pt Dawsonvllle and me there."
When Holmes Carruthers
peached Dawsonvilie following
morning, the formejn(j Behrens
Kvalting on the fa platform,
•llolmes briefly expli to hIm and
ko Clancy, the local ^ how mat-
Hera stood with regaqumber shlp.
"Not another foot tnber owned
l y the Independents 1^0 over our
jails," he concluded, locally.
"Does the order go lffect nowr
"Instanter," was th^nse.
Tom Dawson was al* cnrab into
Ikis engine cab on t^rt for j£i
(Capitan when he h<hjs nnrm*
jshouted and torned to tho agent
(running toward him tracks.
"What's up?" lnquirom| cur|.
"Uncouple, Tom," or Clancy.
'•'You're not going out tt
"There'll be h— to pa^ose iogs
Won't get down to El Cafconlght"
commented the young ma
"Yes, and there'll be pi\t to pay
•with before we get thro*^ this
game," grinned Clancy. Boss
just came in on number
ordered all the luint>ei1)iueut3
stopped. When the boys hear of It
they may get disagreeable."
Michael Morrlsey, a fearless old
Irishman and leader of the Independ-
ents, was the first to hear of Holmes'
order. In a minute he was on the Job.
So busy did Morrlsey get, in fact, that
by the middle of the afternoon, Inde-
pendent lumber operators were streak-
ing into town from all points of the
compass. The big meeting held In the
courthouse square was addressed by
"Boys," Morrisey shouted, "the
Amalgamated has ordered that we
shan't ship our timber over Its rail-
way, and 'Old Dollar' Holmes Is here
to enforce the order.
" 'Dirty Dollar Holmes/ Is the name
for the old hellon," one man shouted.
"Are we going to stand for this sort
of treatment?" roared Morrlsey.
"You bet your life we ain't," the
crowd shouted back.
"The only thing this old tree crab
is afraid of Is law," went on the big
Jrlshinan. "He'll shy when somebody
throws a law-book at him. The Amal-
gamated ain't hankering for any feder-
al Investigation. Now the truth Is, fel-
lows, we can carry this Into court and
beat the bunch o' crooks at the head
of the Amalgamated. We've stood this
long enough. Now we'll take the bull
by the horns."
The appointment of a committee to
wait on Holmes and Inform him that
he was up against a finish fight unless
he chose to compromise quickly, re-
sulted in Morrlsey's selection as chair-
"Your troubles!" snarled Holmes,
when he had heard the report of the
committee, emphatically stated by
Morrlsey. "Your troubles, but not my
troubles. . . . The Amalgamated tried
to buy you fellows out. You refused
to sell. The Amalgamated built a rail-
road In here at a great expense and
you boycotted It Now, because you're
high and dry you want to make a con-
venience of It. Well, I'm here to sny
you can't do It—not by a d sight,
you can't. This railway was built by
private capital. It Is not a common
carrier . . . Now get out."
•That's your last word, Is It?" de-
manded Morrlsey. "If It Is, we'll see
what the courts have to say about It"
'To h— with the courts," shouted
Holmes, his face aflame with passion,
his small dark eyes gleaming. "Not
a stick of timber moves over this road
until I give the word."
On the heels of this declaration came
a roar from the crowd outside, fol-
lowed by a deep rumbling noise that
brought Holmes and his associates to
their feet with a wild rush for the sta-
tion platform. The sight that met their
gaze filled them with amazement
The long train of logs from which
Dawson had been ordered to uncouple
his engine, went thundering past the
station under Its own momentum on
the road to El Capltan, a down grade
stretch of twenty miles, with a good
prospect of going Into the river when
It reached its Journey's end.
The remark of a small boy had start-
ed the trouble. It was a verbal spark
about releasing the brakes and letting
the lumber go to mill by itself.
It was enough for the crowd, already
spoiling for trouble. With whoops and
yells a score of men leaped for the
brakewheels and kicked the dogs loose.
In fifty seconds the train was moving
slowly. In less than two minutes It
was Jogging along at ten miles an hour
and by the time the station where
Holmes and his crew sat, was reached,
the speed was twenty miles an hour
Holmes stared at the train, his face
convulsed with fury, cursing like a
maniac. Clancy was tearing about try-
ing to find out what to do. In fact,
there was nothing to do that would
stop the train barring a very desperate
and dangerous plan that had already
begun to simmer In the brain of Helen
Dawson, the operator, whose face was
white as chalk and her lips trembling
as she gasped out:
"The passenger train."
"What?" shouted Holmes.
"The passenger," cried Helen, "It's
left El Capltan and the log train will
hit It. There Is no way to send a warn-
nolmes Rtood by. his huge fists
clenched, his eyes rolling wildly. For
once in his life the big lumberman was
cornered. He had no remedy for
this situation. All the huge staff of
the Amalgamated couldn't save Flor-
ence Holmes, whom he knew to be on
the Limited with death rushing down
"Good Heavens!" gasped Holmes,
"my wife Is on that train."
Tom Dawson wasted no time In
words. He had been trained to act
quickly In crises like this. Before
anyone, even Holmes, realized what
was happening. Dawson was on the
engine. She had been all ready to
srart when he received the order to
uncouple. Now Tom had use for her.
A moment later Helen was In the cab.
"You can't wait for a fireman," the
girl said, decisively, "I'll push the
shovel, Tom. Quick, now V
TTifjr were off. Past the water tank
slid Loco 66, past the roundhouse
past the freight sheds and through the
fringe of scattered cottages at the edge
of the town. Like a flash they left
behind farmsteads with neat white
houses and freshly plowed vegetable
patches. Then came the forest and
they tore through a long vista in the
pine and spruce—down . . . down • • .
Dawson held the throttle wide open.
It was a marvel that they kept the
rails. The engine rocked and swayed
like a jitney on a Jag. There was no
mitigating the chances of death. It
was Just a case of overhauling that
crazy lumbering train that plunged
Wildly so in o where between ten and fif-
teen miles ahead.
By MARY L. PARRISH
(Copyright, by W. O. Chapman.)
[ "It looks as though I never In this
world would get my chance," said Ful-
| ler. "Here I've spent good years of
Two-thirds of the distance to HI by life training for the stage. I've
Capltan- bad been covered before, | dragged over the western world In one-
swinging round a curve, they caught
sight of the runaway. Slowly they
gained upon It Now only a thousand
yards separated pursuer and pursued
now five hundred . . . now three
hundred. It was the crucial moment
Helen dropped her shovel. Out she
crawled on the footboards of the sway- j
lng engine. Sixty miles an hour was
the speed shown by the indicator. Clos-
er .. . closer—now a hundred feet— j
now fifty feet. Helen was on the fender piled,
night stands, played two a day In stock
and worked like a dog for 'experience,'
always hoping that some day I would
get a part in a new York production. I
made good. The papers said so, and I
kept my engagements. But what did
that do for me in New York? Not a
thing. They had never heard of me."
"Oh, but they will," encouraged
"I would like to know how," he re-
"You've got to show them the
of the engine. Now only luches sep- I goods. How are you going to do it if
arated the rear car and the pilot they won't let you?"
Then Helen Jumped. j "Now see here Guy, you Just get
The first real certainty Dawson had thft discouraged, despondent feeling
of her success was when he saw her
swarming over the end of the tall car.
Then he drew a long breath and blew
his whistle until he happened to think
he might need every pound of steam.
Over the swaying logs, car by car
the intrepid girl made her perilous
way. One by one she twisted the hand-
brakes until the train began to slow
and was finally under control.
There was no time to lose. As soon
as the train came to a stop within fifty
feet of the siding and switch at Cala-
pooia, Helen raced for the lever and
opened the tracks. Without waiting
to nuke sure there was room for the
long train Tom Dawson kicked the
lumber cars Jolting over the frog and
landed them with only a few feet to
spare between them and disaster, Just
as the rumble of the Limited became
Helen had thrown the switch back
and had collapsed In a shuddering
heap against the clay embankment
when with a shriek and a roar the
crack train of the P. I. & O., went tear-
ing past. Attached to Its rear was the
private car of Rupert Holmes, presi-
dent of the Amalgamated and sitting
on its brass-bound observation plat-
form was Florence Holmes.
There Is no need to enter Into de-
tails of the great legal battle that was
fought against the Amalgamated under
the interstate commerce act—of the
shipment of a package through two
states by Helen Dawson which gave
the basis for suit against Holmes and
his crowd as common carriers.
Not only were the plaintiffs awarded
heavy damages but the Amalgamated
was adjudged a common carrier within
the meaning of the law. Helen Daw-
son was lionized by the independents
and presented with an engraved gold
There were different manifestations
at the home of Rupert Holmes in Seat-
"It's all the doing of that Dawson
girl," remarked Holmes, grimly, when
he heard the court's decision, "that
little devil has cost us a cold million."
"But she's still working for us, Isn't
she," inquired young Stephen. "Why
don't we tie a can to her?"
"For two good reasons," grinned
Holmes. "First she saved your life,
then she saved that of your mother."
Stephen stared from the big window,
"And one more thing I may men-
tion," concluded Holmes, "I love a
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Fashions in Words.
Certain words enjoy a popularity for
a season, and then are rarely heard.
It would seem that no sooner do they
become the property of the multitude
than their death-kuell is sounded In
fashionable regions, and ere long they
sink Into the obscurity from which
they emerged. "Beau," for Instance,
dates a long way back, and went out of
fashion very many years ago; yet,
strange to say, some old-fashioned
people retain it to this day when re-
ferring to a young man who Is sup-
posed to be paying attention to a girl.
A recognized term of today Is "ad-
mirer," and subsequently, when things
have come to a climax, "lover," but
rarely "beau." "Sweetheart" goes
with "young man," and Is usually the
property of our cooks and housemaids.
The "belle" has gone the way of the
"beau." There are no "belles of the
ball," and she Is not termed a "belle."
The terms "gentleman friend" and
"lady friend" are also out of style.
Influence of American Revolution.
For the sake of historical accuracj
one may challenge the statement of a
contemporary that "the great Ameri-
can republic Is the daughter of the
French revolution." The Declaratlor
of American Independence, issued Ixj . . . . . „ .
t.-i_ . ma wi k„ must choose between Carlton and
July, 1776, wts ratified by the treat? T, oK„ rwi.
of Versailles in 1783—some six yean
right out of your system. Start In
now, and know you're going to get
there. You know when they talked
to Napoleon about circumstances, he
said he made circumstances."
"Yes Eunice, I know you mean to be
comforting and encouraging, but I'll
tell you right now, I'm on the point of
throwing up the sponge and trying to
do something else. I suppose, though,
If I did that you'd never marry me."
"Guy! what nonsense!" she ex-
claimed Impatiently. "I only want you
to do the thing you can do best, the
thing you want to do. You'll never
succeed at anything you don't like. I
think you have unusual dramatic
"Thank you," he 8ahl ironically.
Then seriously: "But do you know
that the one-night performances In
cheap houses, the hurried, perfunctory
rehearsals In two-a-day stock after
awhile knock out anything like real art
in your work? I used to think over
one sentence to get the truest meaning
longer than I do now with a whole act.
A little of that sort of experience Is
good, but I think I've had enough. I
want to get to the top."
A few weeks after this talk, Fuller,
in high spirits, met Eunice Charters
with some news. He had been given
a small part In a good Broadway pro-
luctlon, and was to understudy John
Carlton, the leading Juvenile.
For some time Fuller worked faith-
fully, and seemed to be In good spir-
its, but one day with Eunice, she saw
Chat his old despondency had again
"What has happened?" she asked.
"Oh, nothing," he smiled. "I wish
it would, I'm giving satisfaction, I
think, earning my little stipend, and
holding down my Job. But do yost
think Carlton will ever give me a
chance to play that part? Not on
your life! I know every word of It.
I've played to all the tables and chairs
In my room. I love It! I know I
could play It! I think I'd sell my Im-
mortal soul to get a whack at that
As time went on Eunice felt that her
efforts at encouragement were having
very little effect on Fuller. He seemed
to be getting morbid on the subject.
One day he experienced a shock
which made him forget his other trou-
bles. Strolling Into a fashionable res-
taurant with another man, he saw at
one of the tables Eunice Charters din-
ing with John Carlton. She was ani-
matedly talking to him, and the two
seemed on exceedingly good terms.
He did not reveal his presence, but
at the earliest opportunity afterwards
let her know he had seen her.
"I didn't suppose you knew Carlton,"
"Well, I haven't known him very
long. I met him with some friends,
and I like him real well, don't you?"
"Oh, he's a decent chap," answered
Fuller, suppressing his growing Jeal-
ousy as best he could.
But as the weeks went on, and Eu-
nice and Carlton were so frequently
seen together that It was even spoken
of in company, Fuller came to the con-
clusion It was about time to have an
understanding. Eunice laughed at his
"Why, it's nothing but friendship,"
she protested. "Mr. Carlton Is Jolly
company; he likes someone with him
when he goes off for a spin in his car,
someone who won't get spoony and
silly. That's why he takes me."
Fuller's face expressed both Incre-
dulity and suspicion.
"Oh, it's quite natural," he observed,
"that a girl should prefer a fellow
wAo'.s been getting a big salary so long
he can afford a car."
*Ttow, Guy, darling, you know I'm
neiw going to marry anyone but you.
But Tm learning a whole lot about a
caf, «v> I can run It when we get ours."
(Joy refused to look at the situation
In u humoroua way, and told Eunice
before the outbreak of the revolution
No doubt our American cousins owe
a big debt of gratitude to the gallant
Frenchmen (muny of whom afterward
became prominent in their own revolu
tion) who helped them to gain theli
Independence. But, considering the
deep influence the successful colonial
revolt had upon French thought 11
would surely be nearer the mark to
regard the French revolution as the
daughter of the American republic.—
hin*. If she ever went out with Carl-
ton \n his car again, he should consid-
er she had made her choice.
i One night there was consternation
at the theater. The quarter-hour had
been called, and Carlton had not ap-
peared. Fuller was told to make up
for the part, and when It was Just time
to ring up. a telephone message came.
Carlton had met with an automobile
accident, ond they had better let Fuller
:< on. Fuller played the part with
nnd distinction that be-
fore he had left the theater he had an
offer from a prominent manager, who
happened to be there, for an Impor-
tant production In two months.
Eunice wrote him a note of congrat-
ulation, urging him to come to see her.
He appeared, but in place of the happy
expression she expected, a deep gloom
was on his countenance. In answer to
her surprised question, he answered:
"I wonder you can ask. It's true 1
made good—but what do you think It
all amounts to without you. I've
staked all on you, and now—H
"Now what?" she asked.
"You've chosen him. You were
with him in that car!"
"Did he say so?"
"No; but Miss Na.vlor saw yon go.'
"Cat!" snorted Eunice. "You see
I wanted a good long ride, and we real-
ly went farther than we ought to;
then I got awfully hungry, and we
looked for a place to eat, and then
started for home. The gasoline gave
out. and we couldn't find a horse, cart
or anything. He was Just wild, and
asked me If I was game to walk on
with him. Well, I couldn't stay in that
lonesome road alone, so after awhile
we found a place to telephone, and 1
nearly gave it away when be told them
to put you on."
"Well, what kind of a deal are you
"Oh, he's engaged to my most Inti-
mate friend, and talks all the time
"The devil he Is!" exclaimed Fuller.
"Well, why didn't you tell me that be-
"How did I know you were getting
Jealous, and foolish?"
"I own to being Jealous, but I'm not
quite so sure yet that I've been fool-
"Do you mean to doubt my word?"
There was growing Indignation on
her face, and her eyes searched his.
"I've never thought I needed to," he
said, a bit brokenly. "God knows I
don't want to now. But it nil looks—"
"I know what you're going to say
—and you'd better not say It. I was
n>iinnMinin^ iH nnnnniniininiiniinniinitinimmninumnMiniHniimmtg
The Married Life of Helen and Warren
Originator of 'Their Married
Life." Author of "The Jour-
nal of a Neglected Wife," 'The
Woman Alone," Etc.
LAURA'S RECKLESS FOLLY PROVES THE FUTILITY OF
)iiiiiiiiiiinuuw miiiiitmiiiiiiii niii itmimmmm «mmumiiiiiiiiiiiiB!
(Copyright 1917, by the MrClura Newspaper Syndicate)
Mattel Llurtwrt L'rnev
Experienced a Shock.
going to tell you something more to
finish the story, but If you can't trust
me—If I've got to prove things, why
then it might as well all end here."
She rose, as though to finish the In-
"No, no! I don't mean that!" he
cried. "If you really don't care for
Carlton, If you won't go on doing this
sort of thing—If you do love me, I'll
promise not to be Jealous again."
"I guess, then, I'll finish the story,"
said Eunice. "I Just eujoyed that long
ride, and the longer it lasted the bet-
ter I liked it I was sort of hoping
we wouldn't get back in time for him
to go on."
"Oh, ho!" exclaimed Fuller, a light
suddenly breaking In on him. "Well
It was a lucky accident 'for me!"
"It wasn't an accident," said Eunice,
"Not an accident?"
"No. You see, as we were sitting
down to the table, I remembered some-
thing I had left in the car. I insisted
on going for It myself, nnd I got a
small boy to help me get away with
the most of that gasoline."
"Eunice! You darling little conspir-
Queer Hiding Places for Money.
People who distrust banks hide their
gold in curious places, and many of
these strange hiding places were re-
vealed as the people brought out their
money to Invest it in the British war
loan. One woman hid her savings be-
neath her mother's tombstone. In an-
other instance a parcel of banknotes
was found some time ago In a hole In
the belfry of Ely. Nottingham castle
was also a popular place for the treas-
ure of hoarders. But one of the most
extraordinary methods adopted was
that of a vault keeper In one of Eng-
land's large cities. Within the folds
of ancient documents, seldom, If ever,
referred to, was discovered seven thou-
The Good Old Ways.
There are always conservative souls
who cling to the good old ways. Our
grandmothers were famous cooks In
their day, and we shall never forget I
how delicious the old-fashioned dishes j
tasted to our childish palate. In our
search for novelty we should be fool-
ish to neglect the achievements of past
generations. It Is worth while to hold
I fast to tlie old favorites, as 'well as to
revive some that are well-nigh forgot-
"What has he
to offer you?" rea-
8 o n e d 11 e 1 e u.
can't give you a
he can hardly sup-
"Oh, I know all
said Laura bitter-
ly, stabbing with
a hatpin the veil-
draped sailor hat
she had thrown
on the couch beside her. "You can't
tell me anything about him thut I
don't know. I've no Illusions."
"You mean you're going to marry
a man you can't even respect—Just
because In a foolish schoolgirl way
you think you're In love with him?'
"I was In love with him. I'm noi
sure even of that now."
"Laura, you're hopeless! I don't
understand you any more. YoiT
haven't been yourself for weeks."
"Longer than that—four months, to
be exact." Then with tense abrupt-
ness, "I've heard you say you don't
expect women to be wholly truthful,
that they all resort to small eva-
sions. But suppose some one you were
fond of was untruthful In a big way,
that her whole life was a lie—could
you still be fond of her?"
"I don't think I understand," faltered
Helen, with a rush of torturing sus-
"Suppose you found that for months
I've been deceiving you. Could you
"Laura, you don't mean—"
"I've been married to Ed Marsteln
for over four months."
Through the open window came the
rumbling street sounds, the lessening
rumble of the early evening. Helen,
sitting by her dressing table, was
bending double a flexible nail file. Her
pressure tightened and the thin steel
"Four months I" dazedly. "Then you
were already married the night you
dined here and he came to take you
"And that evening you were with us
"No, we were married the next
'The next day! The very day after
both Warren and I had thut talk with
you—and I begged you not to see him
Laura snapped her glove clasps In
silent, hopeless admission.
"It's rather late to offer congratula-
tions." Helen's voice was withdraw-
"Don't! I can bear anything but
"But why have you kept it a se-
"He couldn't support me—and K
would hurt ray work If It were known
that I was married."
"And he was willing for this se-
crecy?" with swift scoru for the man
who would take a wife under such con-
"Oh, no," wearily. "But what could
he do—he hasn't worked three weeks
In six months. His people give hlrn
f.r>0 a month—It doesn't pay for his
"But, Laura, he's clever enough; he
can work. Surely, he—"
"Oh, he speaks three or four lan-
guages und knows all the social tricks,
but he can't hold down a steady Job
at fifteen a week."
"You really mean you don't care as
you did?" startled at the stinging note
"Sometimes I think I loathe him."
"Yet you're living with him?"
"I lived with him Just two weeks.
You learn a lot about a man In two
weeks, after you're married. Any In-
fatuation I had for him—well he's
about' killed all that. Now he's
hounding me to come back to him,"
drawing a crumpled note from her
waist. "He sent this by messenger
"I'm respecting your wish not to
come to the house, but you must come
to me. I'm waiting here, at the Fifty-
ninth street station, uptown side.
Laura, I've got to see you! I saw
Gardner today, and he's going to land
that Job for me at forty a week. I'll
show you I can make good. Give ine
another chance. I swear I haven't
drank a drop for three days. But if
you fall me tonight—well you'd better
come, that's all. ED."
'The first part Isn't so bad," dis-
criminated Helen, "but I don't like that
threat. Did you go?"
"Yes, and he'd been drinking. Oh
if I could believe anything he tells me
—but It's all lies—lies."
'The position too—you mean that
"Oh no, he can get work anywhere,
but he can't keep It."
"Yet he seems to care for you," re
reading the note.
"That's the strange part. He doe?
love me, In his foolish way. He'll
be at the house tonight—I felt he
would; that's why I came here. I
couldn't bear another scene Just now."
Through all the difficulties that had
confronted Laura In her grim self-sup*
porting struggle, Helen hud stood loy-
ally by her. But before the overwhelm-
lng disaster of this reckless marriage,
she felt helpless.
"The muld's out—I'll have to go,*
starting up at a peal of the door bell.
Then at the sound of heavy steps. "Oh.
Warren's going. Who can it be; It's
after nine," glancing at the dresser
Mumbling voices from the hall, an#
Warren called curtly:
"Mr. Marsten to see Laura."
"Ed!" all the color left her face.
"How did he know you were here?*
Mrs. Burrows knew, but I didn't
think she'd tell hlra. Oh, I can't see
him—I don't want to see him."
"You'll have to, now that he's here/*
"Oh, he mustn't know that you
know," excitedly. "He'd feel free to
tell every one."
"Then go In, quick, so he don't thlnlc
we're talking about him."
"Come in with me; you do the talk-
ing," dragging Helen after her.
In the library Warren was maklntf
a desultory effort to entertain Ed Mar-
sten, whom he thoroughly disliked.
With forced cordiality Helen greeted
"I hope I haven't Intruded," with
easy grace. "They told me Miss Wil-
son was here, and I thought I'd stop
by and take her home."
The next few moments would have
been awkwardly constrained, had it
not been for the Inquiring entrance of
"Oh, here comes that wonderful
cat," he stooped to stroke her.
Usually most diffident with stran-
gers, she rubbed purrlngly against his
hand. "There must be something good
in hlra," thought Helen, "to attract
In a dark, foreign way he was unde-
niably handsome. Tall, slender,
faultlessly groomed, he carried him-
self with careless assurance.
Laura, still pale, was drawing on her
gloves, tensely unxlous to leave at
once. She had hurdly glanced at Mar-
"Don't you think Laura's looking
thin?" asked Helen pointedly.
"I'm ufrald she's working too hard,*
Marsten's dark eyes rested upon her.
"But she'll never take a day off."
"No, my landlady has an unreason-
able desire to have her board money
every week," her laugh was grating-
"That seems to be a failing of most
landladies," commented Warren un-
They were In the hall now, and the
descending elevator hurried their
"Thought you said she wasn't see-
ing him," frowned Warren as they re-
turned to the library. "Looks like he'a
hanging around much as ever."
"I think he's asked her to marry
him," hesitated Helen.
"Marry hlra! Why he can't mako
enough to buy his cigars. Laura's a
fool in some things, but she'll not
throw herself away on a dub that's all
front. I'm glad we gave It to her
straight that night at Shanley's."
Helen was at the window, staring
down at the corner street light that
blurred un orange haze through the
Knowing his Intolerance of any form
of deception, she shrank from telling
him the truth. And yet If she was to
help Laura, if further complications
■hould arise, he would have to know.
"Dear," twisting the shade cord,
'•she'irso lonely—she's had such a long,
dlscouruglng struggle. I can under-
stand how she might be persuaded to
marry, Just for companionship, for
some one to—to hold to!"
"Well he's got about as much sta-
bility to hold to—" a contemptuous
snort served for want of an adequate
comparison. "And she won't get any-
body else while he's dangling around."
"Oh, It's so hard to tell you," com-
ing over to a low stool by his chair.
"Dear, can't you guess? Haven't yoa
noticed a change In her?"
"Eh? What're you driving at?"
loathing any form of indirectness.
"They've been married for four
Without looking up, Helen wulted
for his caustic, merciless denouncing
of Laura's reception. For several
seconds he said nothing at all; then
he reached for his paper with a brief:
"Bigger fool than I thougm her."
"That isn't all," unhappily. "They
are not living together. They haven't
—except for the first two weeks."
"Only two weeks?" dryly. "I'd have
given them a couple of months."
"Oh, don't dismiss It like that Talk
to me about It—I'm so worried. You
know how fond I am of lier—and oh.
I want to—"
"Well It's a mighty good time for
you to lie low. She's made a bloom-
ing raess of it, and she'll have to work
things out for herself. She'll not take
your advice anyway—they never do.
That spiel we gave her didn't carry
ii.uch weight, so what's the sense o£
buttiug in now?"
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Burke, J. J. The Daily Transcript (Norman, Okla.), Vol. 5, No. 14, Ed. 1 Monday, July 2, 1917, newspaper, July 2, 1917; Norman, Oklahoma. (gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc113500/m1/3/: accessed August 18, 2018), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.