The Sentinel Leader. (Sentinel, Okla.), Vol. 9, No. 2, Ed. 1 Friday, August 9, 1912 Page: 4 of 8
This newspaper is part of the collection entitled: Oklahoma Digital Newspaper Program and was provided to The Gateway to Oklahoma History by the Oklahoma Historical Society.
Extracted Text
The following text was automatically extracted from the image on this page using optical character recognition software:
RUPERT HUOTS
^ NOVELIZED FPOM T/iE
COMEDY Of TfiE SAME
AAME. T T T
ILLUSTRATED F/?0>\
PHOTOGRAPH S OF
THE PLAY AS PRODUCED
^cJWMKY W. 5AVAOE-.
i ...JOOPVglOMT igll jt. M.K.PLV co,
Continued from last ween.
'"Scuse ine, but wha—what's all
this?"
"Vanish—get out," said Hudson,
poking a coin at him. As he turned
to obey, Mrs. Whltcomb checked him
with: "Oh, Porter, could you get us
a hammer and some nails?"
The porter almost blanched: "Good
Lawd, Miss, you ain't allowln' to drive
nulls In that woodwork, is you?" That
woodwork was to him what the altar
is to the priest.
But Hudson, resorting to heroic
measures, hypnotized him with a two-
dollar bill: "Here, take this and see
nothing, hear nothing, say nothing."
The porter caressed it and chuckled:
"I'm blind, deaf and speechless." Ho
turned away, only to come back at
once with a timid '"Scuse me!"
"You here yet?" growled Hudson.
Anxiously the porter pleaded: "I
Just want to ast one question. Is you
all flxln' up for a bridal couple?"
"Foolish question, number eight
million, forty-three," said Shaw. "An-
Bwer, no, we are."
The porter's face glistened like
fresh stove polish as he gloated over
the prospect. "I tell you, It'll be mahty
refreshln' to have a bridal coiiple on
bode! This dog-on Reno train don't
carry nothin' much but divorcees. I'm
Just nachally hongry for a bridal cou-
ple."
"Brlle coup-hlc-le ?" came a voice,
like an echo that had somehow be-
come intoxicated in transit. It was
Little Jimmle Wellington looking for
more sympathy. "Whass zis about
brile couple?"
"Why, here's Little Buttercup!"
Bang out young Hudson, looking at
him in amazed amusement.
"Did I un'stan' somebody say you're
prepuring for brile coupl'?"
Lieutenant Shaw grinned. "I don't
know what you understood, but that's
what we're doing."
Immediately Wellington's great face
began to churn and work like a big
eddy in a river, tfuaaemy vw*
weeping. "Excuse these tears, zhent-
tlemtn, but I once—I was once a
b-b-brlde myself."
"He looks like a whole wedding par-
ty," was Ashton's only comment on
the copious grief. It was poor Welling-
ton's fate to hunt as vainly for sym-
pathy as Diogenes for honesty. The
decorators either Ignored him or
shunted him aside. They were Inter-
ested In a strange contrivance of rib-
bons and a box that Shaw produced.
"That," Hudson explained, "Is a lit-
tle rice trap. We hang that up there
and when the bridal couple sit down
—biff! a shower of rice all over them.
It's bad. eh?"
Everybody agreed that It was a
happy thought, and even Jimmle Wel-
lington, like a great baby, bounding
from tears to laughter on the Instant,
was chortling: "A rishe trap? That's
abslootly splendid—greates' lnvensh'
modern times. I must stick around
and see her when she flops." And
then he lurched forward like a too-
obliging elephant. "Let me help you.''
Mrs. Whltcomb, who had now
mounted a step ladder and poised her-
self as gracefully as possible, shrieked
with alarm, as she saw Wellington's
bulk rolling toward her frail support.
If Hudson and Shaw had not been
football veterans at West Point and
bad not known just what to do when
the center rush comes bucking the
Hn«, they could never have blocked
that flying wedge. But they checked
him aud impelled him buck ward
through his own curtains Into his own
berth.
Finding himself on his back, he de-
cided to remain there. And there he
remained, oblivious of the carnival
preparations going on Just outside bis
canopy.
CHAPTER VII.
The Masked Minister.
Being an angel must have this great
advantage at least, that one may sit In
the grandstand overlooking the earth
and enjoy the ludicrous blunder of
that great blind man's buff we call
life.
This night. If any angels were
watching Chicago, the Mallory mix-up
must have given them a good laugh,
or a good cry—according to their na-
tures.
Here were Mallory and Marjorle,
still merely engaged, bitterly regret
ting their inability to get married and
to continue their Journey together.
There in the car were the giggling
conspirators preparing a bridal mock-
ery for their sweet confusion.
Then the angels might have nudged
one another and said:
"Oh. It's all right now. There goes
the minister hurrying to their very
car. Mallory has the license In his
pocket, and here comes the parson.
Hooray!"
And then the angelic cheer must
have died out as the one great hurrah
of a crowded ball-ground Is quenched
In air when the borne teas'* vitally
Mrs. Walter Temple.
needed* home run swerves outside the
line and drops useless as a stupid foul
ball.
In a shabby old hack, were two of
the happiest runaways that ever
sought a train. They were not miser-
able like the young couple in the taxi-
cab. They were white-haired both.
They had been married for thirty
years. Yet this was their real honey-
moon, their real elopement.
The little woman In the timid gray
bonnet clapped her hands aud tittered
like a schoolgirl.
"Oh, Walter, I can't believe we're
really going to leave Ypsllanti for a
while. Ob, but you've earned it after
thirty years of being a preacher."
"Hush. Don't let me hear you say
the awful word," said the little old
man in the little black hat and tho
close-fitting black bib. "I'm so tired
of it, Sally, I don't want anybody on
the train to know It."
"They can't help guessing It, with
your collar buttoned behind."
And then the amazing minister act-
ually dared to say, "Here's where I
change it around." What's more, he
actually did it. Actually took off his
collar and buttoned it to the front.
The old carriage seemed almost to
rock with the earthquake of the deed.
"Why, Walter Temple!" his wife ex-
claimed. "What would they say in
Ypsllanti?"
"They'll never know," he answered,
defiantly.
"But your bib?" she Baid.
"I've thought of that, too," he cried,
as he whipped it off and stuffed It Into
a handbag. "Look, what I've bought."
And he dangled before her startled
eyes a long affair which the sudden
light from a passing lamp-post re-
vealed to be nothing less than a flar-
ing red tu
The old lady touched it to make
sure she wus not d; earning it. Then,
omitting further parley with fate, she
Snatched it a.vay, put it round his
neck, and, aiitoe her arms were
bracing him, kissed him twice before
she knotted the ribbon into a flaming
bow. Slie sat back and regarded tha
vision a moment, ti.en flung her arms
round him ar.d hugged him till he
gasped:
'Watch out—watch out. Don't crush
my cigars."
'Citars! Cigars!" she echoed, In a
daze.
And then the astounding husband
produced them in proof.
"Genuine Lillian Itusajells—five
cents straight."
"But 1 never saw you smoke.'
"Haven't taken a puff since I was a
young fellow," he grinned, wagging
his head. "Hut now it's iny vacation,
aud I'm going to smoke up."
She squeezed his hand with
earlier ardor: "Now you're the old
Walter Temple I u;iod to know.'
"Sally," he Bald, "I've beon traveling
through life on a half-fare ticket. Now
I'm going to have my little fling. And
you brace up, too, and be the old mis-
chievous Sally I used to know. Aren't
you glad to be away from those sew-
ing circles and gossip-bees, and —"
"Ugh! Don't ever mention them,"
she shuddered. Then she, too, felt a
tinge of recurring springtide. "If you
start to smoking, I think I'll take up
flirting once more."
He pinched her cheek and laughed.
"Ab the saying Is, go as far as you de-
sire and I'll leave the coast clear."
lie kept his promise, too, for they
were no sooner on the train and Bnug-
ly bestowed in section five, than he
was up and off.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"To the smoking-room," he swag-
gered, brandishing a dangerous look-
ing cigar.
"Oh, Walter," she snickered, "I feel
like a young runaway."
"You look like one. Be careful not
to let anybody know that you're a"—
he lowered his voice—"an old preach-
er's wife."
"I'm as ashamed of It as you are,"
she whispered. Then he threw her a
kiss and a wink. She threw him a kiss
and winked too. And he went along
the aisle eyeing his cigar gloatingly.
As he entered the smoking-room, light-
ed the weed and blew out a great puff
with a sigh of rapture, who could have
taken him, with his feet cocked up,
and his red tie rakishly askew, for a
minister?
And Sally herself was busy disguls
ing herself, loosening up her hair co-
quettlshly, smiling thfe primness out
of the set corners of her mouth and
even—let the truth be told at all costs
—tven passing a pink-powdered puff
over her pale cheeks with guilty aur-
reptltlon.
Thxio arrayed slie Was soon Joining
the conspirators bc-decklng the bower
for the expected bride and groom. She
was the youngest and most mischiev'
ous of the lot. She felt herself a bride
again, and vowed to protect this timid
little wife to come from too much hi
larlty at the hands of the conspirators
nesitated, and then demanded:
"Oh, porter, are you aure there'B no-
body else in there?"
The porter chuckled, but humored
her panic.
"I ain't seen nobody. Shall I look
under the seat?"
To hia dismay, she nodded her head j your husb.Ti-l
violently. He rolled his eyes in won-
derment, but returned to the state-
room, made a pretense of examination,
and came back with a face full of re-
assurance. "No'm, they's nobody
there. Take a mighty small-size bur-
glar to squeeze unda that bald—er—
berth. No'm, nobody there."
"Oh!"
CHAPTER VIII.
A Mixed Pickle.
Mrs. Whltcomb had almost blushed
when she had murmured to Lieuten-
ant Hudson:
"I should think the young couple
would have preferred a stateroom.
And Mr. Hudson had flinched a lit-
tle as he explained:
"Yes, of course. We tried to get It,
but it was gone."
It was during the excitement over
the decoration of the bridal section,
that the stateroom-tenants slipped in
unobserved.
First came a fluttering woman
w'hose youthful beauty had a certain
hue of experience, saddening and
wlserlng. The porter brought her In
from the station-platform, led her to
the stateroom's concave door and
passed In with her luggage. But she
lingered without, a Peri at the gate
of Paradise. When the porter re-
turned .to bow her in, she shivered and
The gasp was bo equivocal that he
made bold to ask:
"Is you pleased or disappointed?"
The mysterious young woman was
too much agitated to rebuke the impu-
dence. She merely sighed: "Oh, por-
ter, I'm so anxious."
I m not—now," he muttered, for
she handed him a coin.
"Porter, have you seen anybody on
board that looks suspicious?"
"Ewabody looks suspicious to me,
Missy. But what was you expecting
—especial?"
'Oh, porter, have you seen anybody
that looks like a detective In dis-
guise?"
Well, they'a one man looks 'b if he
was disguised as a balloon, but I don't
believe he's no slooch-hound."
"Well, if you Bev anybody that looks
like a detective and he asks for Mrs
Fosdlck—"
"Mrs. What-dick?"
"Mrs. Fosdick! You tell him I'm not
on board." And she gave him another
coin.
"Yassum." said the porter, linger
ing willingly on such fertile soil. "I'll
tell him Airs. Fosdick done give me
her word slie wasn't on bode."
'Yes!—and If a woman should ask
you."
'What kind of a woman?"
The hideous kind that men call
handsome."
Oh, ain't they hideous, them hand-
some women?"
Well, If such a woman asks for
Mrs. Fosdick—she's my husband's
first wife—but of course that doesn't
interest you."
'No'm—yes'm."
'If she comes—tell her—tell her—
oh, what shall we tell her?"
The porter rubbed his thick skull:
Lemme see—we might say you—I
tell you what we'll tell her: we'll tell
her you took the train for New York:
and if she runs mighty fast she can
Just about ketch it."
"Fine, fine!" And she rewarded
his genius with another coin. "And
porter." He had not budged. "Por
ter, if a very handsome man with
REV. TEMPLE'S FIRST CIGAR.
luscious eyes and a soulful smile asks
for me—"
"I'll th'ow him off the train!"
"Oh, no—no!—that's my husband—
my preaant husband You may let
him in. Now is it all perfectly clear,
porter?"
"Oh, yassum, clear as clear." Thus
guaranteed she entered the stateroom,
leaving the porter alone with his prob-
lem. He tried to work it out In a
semi-audible mumble: "Lemme see!
If your pTtsent husband's absent wife
gits on bode disguised as a handsome
hideous woman I'm to throw him—
her—off the train and let her—him—
come in—oh, yassum, you may rely on
me." He bowed and held out his
hand. But she was gone. He shuf-
fled on Into the car.
He had hardly left the little Bpace
before the stateroom when a hand-
some man with luscious eyes, but
without any smile at all, came Blink-
ing along the corridor and tapped
cautiously on the door. Silence alone
answered him at first, then when he
had rapped again, he heard a muf-
id:
"Go away. I'm not In."
lie put his lips cloBe and Boftly
called: "Edith!"
At this Sesame the door opened a
trifle, but when he tried to enter, a
hand thrust him back and a voice
again warned him off. "You musn't
come in."
"But I'm your husband."
"That's Just why you musn't come
in." The door opened a little wider
to give him a view of a downcast
beauty moaning:
Oh, Arthur, I'm so afraid."
Afraid?" he sniffed. "With your
husband here?"
That's the trouble, Arthur. What
if your former wife should find ub to-
gether?"
'But she and I are divorced."
'In some states, ^es—but other
states don't acknowledge the divorce.
That former wife of yours 1b a fiend
to pursue us this way."
'She's no worse than your former
husband. He's pursuing us, too. My
divorce was as good as yours, my
dear."
"Yes, and no better."
The angels looking on might have
Judged from the ready tempers of the
newly married and not entirely un-
married twain that their new alliance
promised to be as exciting as their
previous estates. Perhaps the man
subtly felt the presence of those eter-
nal eavesdroppers, for he tried to end
the love-duel In the corridor with an
appeasing caress and a tender ap-
peal: "But let's not start our honey-
moon with a quarrel."
His partial wife returned the caress
and tried to explain: "I'm not quar-
reling with you, dear heart, but with
the horrid divorce laws. Why, oh.
why did we ever interfere with
them ?"
He made a brave effort with: "We
ended two unhappy marriages, Edith,
to make one happy one."
But I'm so unhappy, Arthur, and
so afraid "
He seemed a trifle afraid himself
and his gaze was askance as he
urged: "But the train will start soon,
Edith—and then we shall be safe."
Mrs. Fosdlclc had a genius for in-
venting unpleasant possibilities. "Hut
what if your former wife or my for-
mer husband should nave a detective
on board?"
"A detective?—poof!" He snapped
his lingers in bravado. "You are with
rcn't you?"
"In Illinois, y< she admitted,
very dolefully. "Hut when we come
to Idwa, I'm :i bigamist, and when
we come to Nebraska, you're a biga-
mist, and when we come to Wyoming,
we're not married at all."
It was certainly a tangled web they
had woven, but a ray of light shot
through it in Co bis bewildered soul.
"But we're all right in Utah. Come,
dearest."
He took her by the elbow to escort
her into their sanctuary, but still she
hung back.
"On one condition, Arthur—that
you leave me as soon as we cross the
Iowa state line, ;;nd not come back
till we get to Utah. Hemember, the
Iowa stiito lire!"
"Oh, all light," he smiled. And Eee-
lng the porter, beckoned him close
and asked with careless Indifference
"Oh, porter, what time do we reach
tho Iowa state line?"
"Two fifty-live in the mawning,
sah."
"Two fifty-live a. m.?" the wretch
exclaimed.
"Two fifty-five a. in., ya3sah," the
porter repeated, and wondered why
this excerpt from the time-table
should exert such a dramatic effect
on tho luscious eyed Fosdick.
He had small time to meditate the
puzzle, for the train was about to be
launched upon its long voyage. He
went out to the platform, and watched
a couple making that way. As their
only luggage was a dog-basket he sup-
posed that they were simply come to
bid some of his passengers good-bye.
No tips were to be expected from
such transients, so he allowed them to
help themselves up the steps.
Mallory and his Marjorle had tried
to kiss the farewell or farewells half
a dozen times, but she could not let
him go at the gate. She asked the
guard to let her through, and her
beauty was bribe enough.
Again and again, she and Mallory
paused. He wanted to take her back
to the taxlcab, but she would not be
so dismissed. She must spend the
last available second with him.
"I'll go as far as the steps of the
car," she said. When they were ar-
rived there, two porters, a sleeping
car conductor and several smoking
saunterers profaned me tryst. So she
whispered that she would come
aboard, for the corridor would be a
quiet lane for the Inst rites
And now that he had her actually
oit the train, Mallory's whole soul re-
volted against letting her go. The
vision of her standing on the plat-
form sad-eyed and lorn, while the
train swept him off into space was
unendurr.ble. He shut his eyes against
it, but it glowed Inside the lids.
And then temptation whispered him
Its old "Why not?" While It
working in his soul like a fermenting
yeast, he was saying:
"To think that we should owe all
our misfortune to an infernal taxi-
cab's break-down."
Out of the anguish of her loneliness
crept one little complaint:
"If you had really wanted me, you'd
have had two taxicabs."
"Oh, how can you say that? I had
the license bought and the minister
waiting."
"He's waiting yet."
"And the ring—there's the ring."
He fished it out of hi3 waistcoat pock-
et and held it before her as a golden
amulet.
"A lot of good it does now," said
Marjorle. "You won't even wait over
till the next train."
"I've told you a thousand times, my
love," he protested, desperately, "if I
don't catch the transport, I'll be court-
martialed. If this train Is late, I'm
rieu."
He answered airily: "Oh, I'm sure
there's n minister on jioard."
"But it would be too awful to bo
married with all the passengers gawk-
ing. ■ No, I couldn't face it. Good-
bye, honey."
She turned away, but he caught her
arm: "Don't you love me?"
"To distraction. I'll wait for you,
too."
"Three years Is a long wait."
"But I'll wait, if you will."
With such devotion he could not
tamper. It was too beautiful to risk
or endanger or besmirch with any
danger of scandal. He gave up bis
fantastic project and gathered her in-
to his arms, crowded her Into his very
soul, as he vowed: "I'll wait for you
forever and ever and ever."
Her arms swept around his neck,
and she gave herself up as an exile
from happiness, a prisoner of a far-
off love:
"Good-bye, my husband-to-be.
"Good-bye my wlfe-that-was-to-have-
been-and-will-be-maybe."
"Good-bye."
"Good-bye."
"Good-bye."
"Good-bye."
"I must go."
"Yes, you must."
"One last kiss."
"One more—one long last kiss."
And there, entwined In each other's
arms, with lips wedded and eyelids
clinched, they clung together, forget-
ting everything past, future or pres-
ent. Love's anguish made them blind,
mute and deaf.
They did not hear the conductor
crying his "All Aboard!" down the
long wall of the train. They did not
hear the far-off knell of the bell. They
did not hear the porters tanging the
vestibules shut. They did not feel
the floor sliding out with them.
And so the porter found them, en-
gulfed In one embrace, swaying and
swaying, and no more aware of the
increasing rush of the train than we
other passengers on the e .rth-express
are aware of its speed through the
ether-routes on its ancient rcliedule.
The porter stood with his box-step
in his hand, and blinked and won-
dered. And they did not even know
they were observed.
Rev. Walter Temple.
lost. If you really loved me you'd
come along with me."
Her very eyes gasped at this as-
tounding proposal.
"Why, Harry Mallory, you know It's
impossible."
Like a sort of benevolent Satan, he
laid the ground for his abduction:
"You'll leave me, then, to Bpend three
years without you—out among those
Manila women."
She shook her head In terror at
this vision. "It would be too horrible
for words to have you marry one of
those mahogany sirens."
He held out the apple. "Better come
along, then."
"But how can I? We're not mar-
CHAPTER IX.
Mil Aboard!
The starting of the train surprised
the ironical decorators In the last
stages of their work. Their smiles
died out in a sudden shame, as It
came over them that the joke had re-
coiled on their own heads. They had
done their best to carry out the time-
honored rite of making a newly mar-
ried couple as miserable as possible—
and the newly married couple had
failed to do its share.
The two lieutenants glared at each
other in mutual contempt. They had
studied much at West Point aboyt
ambushes, and how to avoid them.
Could Mallory have escaped the pit
they had digged for him? They
looked at their handiwork in disgust.
The cosy-corner effect of white rib-
bons and orange flowers, gracefully
masking the concealed rice-trap, had
seemed the wittiest thing ever de-
vised. Now it looked the silliest.
The other passengers were equally
downcast. Meanwhile the two lovers
In the corridor were kissing good-
byes as if they were hoping to store
up honey enough to sustain their
hearts for a three years' fast. And
the porter was studying them with
perplexity.
He was used, however, to waking
people out of dreamland, and he be-
gan to fear that if he were discovered
spying on the lovers, he might suf-
fer. So he coughed discreetly three
or four times.
Since the increasing racket of the
train made no effect on the two hearts
beating aB one, the small matter of a
cough was as nothing.
Finally the porter was compelled to
reach forward and tap Mallory's arm,,
and stutter:
" 'Scuse me, but co-could I git b-by?"(
Tho embrace was untied, and the
lovers stared at him with a dazed,
where-am-I? look. Marjorle was the
first to realize what awakened them.
She felt called upon to say something,
so she said, as carelessly as If she
had not Just emerged from a young
gentleman's arms:
"Oh, porter, how long before the
train starts?"
"Train's done started, Missy."
This simple statement struck the
wool from her eyes and the cotton
from her ears, and she was wide
enough awake when she cried: "Oh,
Btop it—stop it!"
'That's mo'n I can do, Missy," the
porter expostulated.
'Then I'll Jum<) off," Marjorle
vowed, making a dasn tor the door.
But the porter filled the narrow
path, and waved her back.
Vestibule's done locked up—
train's going llckety-split." Feeling
that he had safely checkmated any
rashness, the porter squeezed past
the dumbfounded pair, and w nt to
change hi8 blue blouse for the white
coat of his chambermaldenly duties.
Mallory's first wondering thought was
rapturous feeling that circum-
stances had forced hia dream into a
reality. He thrilled with triumph:
"You've got to go with mo now." 1
Yes—I've got to go," Marjorle as-
sented meekly; "then, sublimely, "It's
fate. Kismet!"
They clutched each other again in
a fiercely blissful hug. Marjorle came
back to earth with a bump: "Are
you really sure there's a minister on
board?"
"Pretty sure," said Mallory, sober-
ing a trifle.
"Hut you said you were sure?"
"Well, when you say you're sure,
that means you're not quite sure."
It was not an entirely satisfactory
Continued next week.
fort
forS
tor C
•X
Upcoming Pages
Here’s what’s next.
Search Inside
This issue can be searched. Note: Results may vary based on the legibility of text within the document.
Tools / Downloads
Get a copy of this page or view the extracted text.
Citing and Sharing
Basic information for referencing this web page. We also provide extended guidance on usage rights, references, copying or embedding.
Reference the current page of this Newspaper.
Inglish, G. L. The Sentinel Leader. (Sentinel, Okla.), Vol. 9, No. 2, Ed. 1 Friday, August 9, 1912, newspaper, August 9, 1912; Sentinel, Oklahoma. (https://gateway.okhistory.org/ark:/67531/metadc273066/m1/4/: accessed April 25, 2024), The Gateway to Oklahoma History, https://gateway.okhistory.org; crediting Oklahoma Historical Society.