Yale Democrat (Yale, Okla.), Vol. 9, No. 1, Ed. 1 Thursday, August 31, 1916 Page: 3 of 8
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SYNOPSIS.'
—s— .
Peter Knight, defeated for political of-
fice in his town, decldeB to venture New
York in order that the' family fortunes
might benefit by the expected rise of his
charming daughter, Lorelei. A well-
known critic Interviews Lorelei Knight,
now stage beauty with Bergman’s ltevue,
for a special article. Her coin-hunting
mother outlines Lorelei’s ambitions, but
Slosson, the press agent, later adds his
information. Lorelei attends Millionaire
Hammon’s gorgeous entertainment. She
meets Merkle, a wealthy dyspeptic. Bob
Wharton comes uninvited. Lorelei dis-
covers a blackmail plot against Hammon
tn which her brother (a involved. Merkle
and Lorelei have an auto wreck. The
blackmailers besmirch her good namo.
“I slit
that ci
me, bit
If you
to para
a taxi.”
been ob
to the ci
without tl
mow con
** girl, just
■SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS;
you believe that a young
out of her teens, is
justified in leaving home and
:1 casting off her parents if they
intrigue to get her married to
any man, no matter how much
• j of a rounder he is, if only he has
!j i wealth to support them?
h«§*t^f% $£* With uNfae'in
all .right tot
lWOntoutifr toitft of.de<;6n,t Klhrt
a~f«ffat4«qn lt Wqn't do
^‘B&Mdiease’. take
: riiust h8Ye
sped swiftly
, 'ttieH wftB vbaek again
V]tf iitre’f any thing
a.-btpUdd with
t»o?f)londes wl^tijfcdtfsoddlfes. *'1 the"
flung hersolY • cub -and-
^nuHi the d(*f>; y :. ; ' :
?f¥ou must thtyk-rm very rude,” her
girost ventured^*”
•Jtiothlug of the. sort.- I, know just
h£f you feei»V M^Memritast’s smile
was a trittb fifralned: ' ‘‘Oniy—I’m aw-
fully lou^orni;dpd—I'll take caTe that
no|»(Hly ^s.”'- ’?> '
!£•<>*> oasty-” Ij0'
t T
BARKER
Author of
“The Iron Trail”
“The Spoilers”
“ The Silver Horde” Etc.
t Hsrftr Sf SrWSm
"> rt-»’«««XXTt
CHAPTER VIII—Continued.
m
I.ooking back upon last night’s home-
ward ride, she was wholly at a loss.
In view of Jim’s words and of what
*he had gathered at the theater she
had felt sure of Lilas’ complete knowl-
edge of the blackmail plot, but Ham-
mon’s unwavering faith in the girl and
Lilas’ own story of her relations with
Max Melcher had awakened a doubt.
What concerned her far more than the
moral complexion of the liaison was
her brother’s connection with the un-
lawful scheme of extortion. Jim, she
saw, had gone wrong with a ven-
geance, and the consequences to him
troubled her, for in spite of all that he
might be or do she cherished a sisterly
Affection for him. Family ties were
very real and very strong to her—
-strong enough to keep her loyal to her
kin even after the demoralizing change
In her whole mode of life. The firm-
est, in fact, the only bond that she had
ever known, was that of blood; obedi-
ence, faithfulness and affection had
been bora In her, and she never
thought to question their sacredness.
Idling down Fifth avenue, she found
herself In front of a fashionable de-
partment store. A knot of curious
people were gaping at a unique auto-
mobile which stood in the line > * ve-
hicles along the curb, and she paused
to look. The equipage was snow white
In color; the chauffeur and a stiff-
backed footman were in blood red with
white facings on their livery. A tiny
mop of a lapdog. Imprisoned within
the closed body of the car, was harking
frenziedly at the throng. Across the
doors, in gold letters an Inch high,
the name “Adoree Demorest.”
As she entered the store Lorelei re-
flected with some disgust that rto vis-
iting rajah, no barbaric potentate—
no one. In fact, except a self-advertised
musical comedy queen—would so fla-
grantly defy good taste as to ride in
such a vehicle.
She was engaged In her final pur-
chase when a dazzling creature in red
and white descended upon her with ex-
clamations of surprise and delight. It
was Mademoiselle Demorest herself,
and her greeting was so effusive that
the stream of shoppers hulted in the
aisle. She carried the mate to the ex-
citable poodle that defied the curiosity
seekers outside.
“Miss Knight! I’m so glad to see
you again,” she burbled. “How sweet
you look! I hoped we’d meet again;
but where have you been? Have you
finished your shopping? Then do come
and help me match some rose du
Harry."
Lorelei felt herself flushing uncom-
fortably under the stares of the on-
lookers, and, glad to escape, she
moved away beside the undisturbed
cause of all the furore.
Miss Demorest seemed genuinely de-
lighted at this encounter. She clung
to her companion, chatterlug vivacious-
ly; then, when the rose du Harry had
been matched, she suggested tea.
•‘We’ll run right over to the Wal-
dorf—my car Is outside.” Hut Lorelei
declined, explaining lamely that she
did not care for public places.
The dancer’s expression and tone
^bagged abruptly. "I supposed you
were like all the others.”
“Well, I’m not. When I’m away
from the theater I try to forget it.
1—hate the business."
The reply, which came with sincere
feeling, widened Lorelei’s eyes with
uncontrollable surprise.
“Here, too," said Adoree Demorest,
quietly. “But I’m not allowed to for-
get it. Our first meeting made me
think you were—out with banners. I
was hired on that occasion to be
unugbty What do you say to some
real tea at my house? Just you and
I?”
Lorelei’s heart sank at the thought
of that gaudy machine outside,
there was an honest appeal In
and, moreover,
memory of her c ,
vent her from appearing ungrateful.
-171 be delighted," she falsified, and,
gurgling with appreciation, Miss Dem-
orest hurried her toward the nearest
ox it In the street, however. Adoree
unused, and her next words showed
that she was not wanting In womunly
in tuition.
fUgaht tbcntylcaHam
sft&ApQt&Mi' nfrtufnl and unaffected.
Addree; the . current of the
(»pY«98,tioh>?by saying;
rb^Uwunds. get to
fighting.”
IM'fjovrr-ftwuy!” : ^orelei wna cying
ti»b.Srfe&kt?rwith rtmltegalsed curiosity.
FrtSn-hWomain?”
t>'AgnS» Smith Is; the’. »a<ne. Decent
by ^eSnt, but. aotreM. by adver-
tising. Wfia^s yw'gambf’’'
r^^m^y ilos^^ratght:« don’t
lfopi tm I’m actress b/ totce of fea-
tured • ' ; . ■ •’ "■> i ’’
rfVlji -laugh9$ HPttftectedly,
verjKeieaniT
'
tea weafi!****’-*''' X+J&s****** i
‘Oh, I can’t drink anything strong!
I’m an awful counterfeit.”
“I’m beginning to think so. I-
wonder if I’m dreaming.”
The girls had much in common; they
chattered continuously through the
short ride, and when they alighted
from the taxicab they disputed over
the right to pay for it. When the
guest was ushered Into Adoree’s apart
ment she received another surprise,
for the place was neither elaborate nor
showy. It consisted merely of two
large' comfortable rooms overlooking
a side street lined with monotonous
brownstone boarding houses.
A battered teakettle was set to boil
over an absurd alcohol stove that re-
quired expert assistance to maintain
its equilibrium. Adoree flung out of
her finery and donned a Japanese robe,
offering another to Lorelei. A plate
of limber crackers was unearthed
from somewhere, also the disreputable
remains of a box of marshmallo>vs;
but
the
the
“You Never Really Believed That King
Stuff, Did YouT”
and these latter Mademoiselle Demo-
rest toasted on a hatpin.
“You’re the most extraordinary per-
son,” her guest at length remarked.
“Aren’t you going to show me your
jewels or—anything like that?”
“You probably have better jewels of
your own," carelessly replied Adoree;
then she voiced a very tame and wom-
anly oath as u marshmallow dripped
Into the flames. "Pickles! I spoiled
that one.”
"But the cabochou rubles are real.”
“Sure. So is the ‘square toe’ who
brings ’em and takes ’em away; so Is
toe bond teat covera ’em. Lorty, hut
they are pretty!"
“Then toe king didn’t give them to
you?”
“My dear, I never saw a king—out-
side of a pinochle deck. If I lost one
of those rubles the Malden Lane Shy-
lock who owns them would tear
mough curled hair out of his beard to
Ell a mattress. You never really be-
lieved that king stuff, did you?’’;. |
“Why. yes.” ' ■ ,
“I had no idea it worked so w ill."
Again Miss Demorest smiled crook* Ily.
VNo wonder you didn’t want to g) to
toe VValdorf with me; I wonder jyou
Consented to come here."
“%our advance work is great—r
“I knew the public swallowed It^but
I supposed the profession knew press
stuff when they saw It, I. sang And
dhneed for ten years in this .country
.and never got better time than the
schuetzen parks and airdomes. I was
Agnes Smith then. Somehow I got the
price of a ticket to England, arid
pulled the nirdome stuff that ‘had
scored In Little Rock and Michigan
City, and it got by somehow. ;M.v
mother was a Canuck, so I knew sbme
French, and eventually I reached^the
continent. There I met the Old Nick.
You may think the devil is what he
looks like on the ham cans; but, in
reality he’s a little, fat, bald man *ith
a tenor voice, and he eats cloves. Ilis
name Is Aubrey Lane. He was in
Paris selling patent garters at the time.
He saw me work at a cabaret and told
me I was good, but not good enough.
I’d known that for years, so he didn’t
hurt my feelings. He confessed that
he was tired of working and Intended
to have me make a lot of money, for
him, but warned me that he had: ex-
pensive tastes and I’d have to pay well
for the privilege. He was right; I did.
But here I am tn electric ligbtg on
Broadway while he is exercising a
wheeled chair at Atlantic City:" ;
“He’s your manager?"
“He's that very little thing. He, of-
fered to-make me a star if. I’d allow him
to bitch his chariot to me—on ft ahare
:pf the.gross. There was one trifling sac-
rlflee: I had to make in the nature of
ftiy-personal reputation'—So he told me.
fttrtiefcftti by tying'4 can to the ‘Agnes
Smith,’ and handed me ‘Adoree Demo-
rest’ instead; then he went to work.
He really did work, too, although It
nearly killed him, and he's never done
anything since. The klu» fable is a
Joke on the other side, but New York
swallowed it clear up to toe sinker,
and Aubrey gaffed toe Palace Garden
management for a three years’ con-
tract. Of course, my advertised sal-
ary Is phony, just like the rubies and
the wfiseked throne and that gilded
bandwagon ndth toe poodles and toe
stuffed supers on the box. Aubrey
owns them all except the rubles, which
he rente. I’m billed as the most no-
torious woman In America, and toe
shred of reputation I have left
wouldn’t make a necktie for a gnat,
whereas In reality I love marshmal-
lows and tea much more than men
But I’m a star, at the head of my own
company, and playing to sidewalk
prices. Do you think It was a good
bargain?”
Lorelei had listened with breathless
interest. Now she burst out impul-
sively;
“You poor dear."
Miss Smith smiled, but her eyes
were tragic.
“Sometimes I cry when I think
about it. I—cry a good deal,” said
she. “I didn’t realize until too late
what It me.mt, but, you see, I was
tired of working, tired of ambition,
and 1 wanted to come home. Thank
God, I have no people! I save all the
money I can, and when I get enough
I’m going to take Agnes Smith out
of the moth-balls, dust her off tenderly,
and go to raising ducks."
“Ducks? What do you mean?”
“What I say. That has always been
my ambition."
“Whv not quit now?"
“What’s the use? I’m half way
through the swamp; toe mud Is as deep
behind as It is in front. But I’m
deathly afraid all the time I’ll be
found out—I’d—rather be notorious
than ridiculous. Of course. Auhrey I
sees to that."
“Are you fond of him?”
Adoree turned up her nose. “He’s
a little pink rabbit. I don’t like any
man, and I never have. There's only
one I'd really care to meet; his name
Is Campbell Pope.”
“The critic. He Is nice."
“Tile beast. Did you read what he
said about me? I’ll never rest until I
have a lock of his «halr that I've
plucked myself. I’d love to have his
whole scalp—with, say, one ear at-
tached-hanging on my bureau where
I could see it every morning when I
wake up. Somehow I don't seem to
mind the press stuff that Aubrey puts
out, but Pope—actually believes what
he wrote. And other people will be-
lieve It, too. I—I—Gosh! I’m going
to cry again.”
Lorelei nodded In perfect sympathy:
she did not laugh. ”1 haven’t any girl
chum; let’s be friends,” said she.
Adoree had been nibbling at marsh-
mallows as she talked; as she wiped
her eyes now she left a smear of pow-
dered sugar on her cheek.
“I’d love to—I’m simply bursting to
confide In somebody—but we couldn’t
go around together.”
"Why? I don't care what people
think.”
“You can’t afford to be reckless.
We’re each playing our own game and
chasing the dollar In our own way-
bearable for you if they knew we were
pais. Aubrey was right: a girl must
either he mighty good or mighty bad
in this business—or make people think
she Is, which amounts to the same
thing. You have had easy going be-
cause you’re known to he straight; but
if you ever get into toe papers watch
what will happen. You’ll have to tight.
You wouldn’t like teat kind of fighting.
“What Is-
-I’m not sure you
could
either, and
stand it.”
As Lorelei walked homeward that
afternoon she felt an unaccustomed
warmth In her breast, and realized that
she, too, had been very lonely In the
city. The certainty that she had tpade
a friend gladdened her heart. She
looked forward with a thrill to toe
morrow when she could see Adoree
again.
During her absence Jim had returned
and departed; but a note was waiting
for her. It had been brought by a mes-
senger, and read;
“Things look bad. I’m afraid we’ll
be Implicated, too. Better see your
brother quickly. M.”
CHAPTER IX.
Lorelei was not a little mystified by
Merkle's cryptic message, for she
could imagine no possible way In
which she or toe writer himself could
be connected discreditably with Jar-
vis Hammon’s affair. She gained some
light, however, when that evening she
read the note to Lilas.
“Why, they’re going to blackmail
Merkle, too,” Lilas exclaimed. “Well,
they'd be foolish to let him off,
wouldn’t they?”
“So they think he’ll pay to keep his
name out of the papers?”
“Exactly. And he will—for your
sake.”
“I won’t let him.”
Lilas was surprised. "Why? He’s
rich. He wouldn’t miss a few thou-
sand.”
“You wouldn’t allow Mr. Hammon
to be robbed, would you?”
“Oh, wouldn’t I? If he didn’t care
enough for me to protect me from
scandal I’d want to know it.”
“Lilas, you puzzle me,” confessed
Lorelei, doubtfully. “You say things
that make me think you don’t care
for him at all; then again you seem
to be crazy about him. How do you
feel? How far would you po with
him?”
Lilas laughed airily. “Perhaps I’d
go farther with him than for him. He
asked me to marry him if his wife
gets a divorce; and I agreed. Now that
he haB come to the point, I'm sorry
things happened Just as they did. A
woman must look out for herself no
man will ever help her. It’s worth
some notoriety to become Mrs. Jarvis
Hammon.”
Something in toe speaker's words
rang false; but just what that some-
thing was, Lorelei could not decide.
"Then you’d like to see the story
made public?” she queried.
“Naturally.”
“I dare say If I loved a man I’d
want him at any price, but I—hope I’m
not going to be dragged into this mat-
ter.”
“My dear, you have a family; they
can make Merkle do the right thing
by you. He could'be made to pay, at
least, and you’ll be sorry if you don’t
get something out of him. Just wait
and see what a difference the story
makes with your other men friends.”
During the ensuing performance Lo
relei pondered her friend’s disquieting
prophecy; yet she could see no reason
for grave apprehension. Publicity of
the kind threatened would, of course,
be dlsagtveuble; but how It could seri-
ously affect her was not apparent
Later In the evening Robert Whar-
ton appeared, as usual, and so resent-
ful was be at the deceptions previously
practiced upon him that Lorelei with
The men you met would make life un-1 difficulty escaped a scene. At last he
he remained throughout the perform-
ance—a gloomy, watchful figure. Lo-
relei came down boldly, dressed for
the street, and, since she could not pass
the besieger, crossed under the stuge,
made her way into the orchestra pit,
and managed to leave the theater by
the frout door.
She was waiting when Jim came
home, and followed him Into his room,
where they could talk without dlaturb-
ing their father. Lorelei made her ac-
cusation boldly, prepared for the usual
hurst of anger, but Jim listened pa-
tiently until she paused.
“I knew you had to spill this, so I
let you rave," said he. “But it’s too
late; somebody has been after Ham-
mon for a long time, and he’s been
got—yes, and got good. Take a flash
at the ’Chorus Girl’s Bible.’ ” He
tossed his sister a copy of a prominent
theatrical paper. "I waited until it
came out."
Lorelei gasped, for on the front page
glared black-typed headlines of the
Hammon scandal. John Merkle's name
was there, too, and, linked with It, her
own.
“What Is—this?” She rnn her eye
swiftly down the column.
"Sure. Melcher commenced suit
against Hammon this afternoon. Fifty
thousand dollars for alienation of Li-
las’ affections. Joke, eh? He claims
there was a common-law marriage and
he’ll get the coin."
“But Mrs. Hammon?”
‘The evidence Is in her hands al-
peady—dates, places, photographs, ev-
erything. She'll win her suit, too.”
“Were you by any chance working
for Mrs. Hammon?"
Divining his sister’s prejudice, Jim
lied promptly and convincingly. "Why,
Mrs. Hammon, of course. I had a
chance to turn a few dollars, and I
took It.”
“But why did you drag me lu?
Couldn’t you keep me out of It? This
is dreadful." As she ran her eye over
the article she saw that It was quite
In harmony with the general tone and
policy of the paper, which catered to
the Jaded throngs of the Tenderloin.
Truth had been cunningly distorted;
flippancy, sensationalism and, a sala-
cious double meaning ran through it
all. . „
“What’s dreadful about it?" inquired
her brother. “That sort of advertising
does a show-girl good. You've got to
make people talk about you, sis, and
this’ll bring a gang of high rollers your
way. You’ve been so blamed proper
that nobody’s interested in you any
more.”
For a moment Lorelei scrutinized
her brother in silence, taken aback at
his outrageous philosophy. Jim had
changed greatly, she mused; not until
very lately had she observed the full
measure of toe change in him. He was
no longer the country boy, the play-
mate and confidant of her youth, but a
man, sophisticated, hard, secretive. He
had been thoroughly Manhattanized,
she perceived, and he was as foreign
to her as a stranger. She shook her
head hopelessly.
“You’re a strange brother,” she said.
“I hardly know what to make of you.
Has the city killed evdfry decent in-
stinct In you, Jim?”
“Now, don’t begin on the Old Home
stuff,” he replied, testily. “Do you
really Intend to marry a bunch of
coin?”
“That’s the program, isn’t it? I’ve
been raised for that and nothing else.’
“Well, ma can’t put it over, so
guess It's up to me.” After a moment
he added, “Would you accept Merkle?”
Lorelei shivered. "Oh—no! Not Mr.
Merkle."
"Humph! You ought to consider the
rest of us a little bit. Pa could be
cured, ma’d be happy. I could get on
my feet. How about Bob Wharton?
“Let’s not talk about it, please. Mr,
Wharton Is getting nasty, and—I’m be-
ginning to be afraid of him.”
“I’ll bet you could land him—”
“Please. I—don’t want to think
about it. I dare say I’ll bring myself
to marry some rich man some day
but—Merkle—Wharton—” She shud-
dered for a second time. “If Mr.
Wharton is serious this scandal will
scare him off, or else he’ll become—
Just like toe others. I could cry. He
threatened me tonight; I don’t know
how I'll manage to avoid him tomor-
row night.”
“Hin-m! He’s coming that strong,
eh?” was Jim’s interested query; but
on hearing his sister’s account of the
young millionaire’s determined pursuit
he volunteered In his offhand way to
assist her.
“I’ll come for you myself, and we’ll
whip over to a cafe for supper."
“You’ll save me from him," said Lo-
relei, with n wan smile, "and I’ll know
that you are In good company for one
evening at least.”
“Don’t lose any sleep over my hab-
its,” he told her, lightly.
As Jim and his mother breakfasted
together on the following morning he
broached the subject of his recent con-
versation with Lorelei.
"She’s sore about the story," he
said. “We had a long talk last night”
“I knew she would be, and Pm not
sure It was a good thing.”
"We’ll drag something out of it if
you do your port, Merkle will pay,
Don’t mention money—nothing but
marriage — understand? Outraged
motherhood, ruined daughter, blasted
career—that’s yours. I’ll be the broth-
er who’s in the position of a father to
her. I can threaten, but you mustn’t
Goldberg "’111 close for us."
”1 don’t see why we have to divide
with a lawyer, when it’s our affair and
we can handle It ourselves,” his mother
complained.
"I tell you it’s got to go through the
regular channels. This was Melcher’s
idea, and, since I’m in on the Ham-
mon money, Max Is entitled to his bit
of this. Gee! If she’d only told us
she was going out with Merkle we
while—I don’t mind telling you this to
a pretty weak case.”
“Wouldn’t he marry her?”
“Not a chance: Ii} toe first place,
she wouldn’t have him. Bob Wharton
is the white hope.”
"She hates him, too. Goodness •
knows what we’re going to do with
her.”
“I think she’ll stand for Wharton if
we work her right; it's him or nobody.
She’s getting harder to handle every
day, though, and one of these times
she’ll fall for some rummy. If she
ever does lose her head she’ll skid for •
the ditch, and we can kiss ourselves
goodby. She’ll be as easy to steer as
a wild boar by the tall. I guesa you’re
sorry now that you didn't llaten to me
and let Max handle her before the got
wise.”
"I wouldn’t feel safe with any of
that crowd. I’d be terribly afraid.”
Mrs. Knight shook her head dubiously.
"Say! She’s got you doing It, too.
Why, they don’t take a chance. Gold-
berg bandies the legal end, and his
brother is in the legislature. Bat that’s
not all: Melcher’s partner in his gam-
bling bouse Is Inspector Snell. You
can’t bent that.”
“Just the same. Pm frightened—and
this Isn’t honest. I wish she would
listen to Robert Wharton.”
James winked meaningly. “Leave
thnt to me. She's going to Proctor’s
with mo tonight. Mnybc he’ll join us.
But meanwhile we've got Merkle for
some quick money if we work him
right. I’m off for Ooldy’s office now.
I’ll meet you at three.”
When Jim appeared, dressed for the
street, he gave a bit of parting advice.
“Better lay on the hysterics when
she wakes up. It’ll make it easier for
me tonight.”
Lorelei found her mother visibly up-
set by the story in the morning’s
newspaper.
“You told me you only went to sup-
per with that man,” Mrs. Knight cried,
tragically. “Instead of that you two
were off to the country together all
night. Here’s the whole thing.” 8ho
brandished the paper dramatically.
“Well, I told you a flb. But there’s
no harm done.”
“Harm, Indeed? You’re ruined. I
never road anything more disgraceful.
daren’t show It to Peter—it would
kill him. What ever possessed you.
after the way we’ve watched over you.
after the cate we’ve taken of you?
It’s terrible.”
“Why, mother! You’re more insult-
ing than that newspaper. The career
of a show-girl is something of a Joka.'
JM
■ ‘m
M I
%
> • ■
31
Lorelei undertook to laugh, but the at-
tempt failed rather dismally.
“Indeed. What will, the other men
say? You had a character; nobody
could say a word against yon until
now. Do you think any decent man
would marry a girl who did » thto*
like this? Of course, I know you’re a
good girt, but they don’t and they’ll
believe absolutely toe worst You’ve
spoiled everything, my dear; I’m com-
pletely discouraged.” Mrs. Knight be-
gan to weep in a weak, heart-broken
manner, expecting Lorelei to melt a*
usual; but seeing something in her
daughter’s expression that warned^ bar
not to carry her reproaches too far, As
broke out: "You’re so hard, so unrea-
sonable. Don’t you see I’m frantle
with worry? You’re ail we have, and
—and the thought of an Injury to yonr
prospects nearly kills me. You mis-
understand everything I say. I—wish
you were safely married and out of
danger. I think I could die happy toon.
1
“I Wish I Were Married and Out of
the Way.”
It means so much to all of us to have
you settled right away. Peter is fall-
ing every day; Jim is going to the dogs,
and—I’m sick over it all.”
“I wish I were married aud out of
the way. You would all be fixed, at
least. I—don’t much care about my-
self.” Lorelei sighed in hopeless wear-
iness of spirit, for variations of this
scene had been common of late, and
they always filled her with the black-
est pessimism.
Does it occur to you that Ado-
res, “the moat vielous woman on
the stage,” will show what a
really fine character she lo by
getting Lorelei out of the
elutohes of her greedy, cold-
blooded mother and away from
the rottenness of the young flirt's
praaont life?
(TO BK cbmnMVWM
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Yale Democrat (Yale, Okla.), Vol. 9, No. 1, Ed. 1 Thursday, August 31, 1916, newspaper, August 31, 1916; Yale, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc1138788/m1/3/: accessed April 26, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.