The dapper Peters was left alone at his desk, but not for long. In a
few minutes the street door opened and Bill Jones, with a certain air
about him--one might even say with a certain flourish in his
manner--sauntered in. He ambled up to the desk.
"Who might you be?" he asked, casually, his half-shut eyes making an
inventory of Peters.
"I'm the manager!" Peters snapped.
"No, you ain't," said Bill, grinning.
"What's the reason I ain't?" inquired Peters.
"Because you're fired," said Bill, calmly, turning his back and putting
his hands in his pockets. He gazed slowly around from floor to ceiling,
and then at the walls. Peters came from behind the desk and stood close
to him.
"Say, Mrs. Jones pulled something like that on me," he said, "but I
ain't taking no orders from you people! I take my orders from Mr.
Hammond!"
"Is that so?" asked Bill, nonchalantly. Drawing a letter from his
pocket, he handed it to the clerk. "Well, here they are!" he said.
Peters opened the letter and read it.
"Well, if I'm fired," he sighed, "I suppose I can go back to my old
job."
A stealthy foot on the floor made Bill turn around to greet Zeb, who had
put his head in the door.
"Got a segar for me, Bill?" Zeb whispered.
Bill went over to the drawer in the California desk, where he knew there
was a box of cigars. He took one, extending it to Zeb. But the latter,
looking toward the dining-room, saw Millie coming, and in spite of the
fact that he wanted that cigar as desperately as he had ever wanted
anything, force of habit sent him scuttling out of the room as he warned
Bill, hoarsely, "Look out!"
Bill called him back. "What you 'fraid of? It's only Millie."
"Well," said Zeb, intrepid enough to grab the cigar, but not brave
enough to stay, "I'll see you to-morrow, when the women-folks is
working. It's safer then."
Millie rushed over and took Bill in her arms, kissing him again and
again, while Bill, unused to such demonstration, tried to disengage
himself.
"Did you just get here, daddy?" she asked, gazing fondly at him.
"Yes," was his reply, as he sat down in the chair in front of the
table.
"Have you seen mother?" she asked, standing very close to him.
Bill, remembering the old days when his return home meant a searching
examination as to soberness, grinned, and then he breathed deeply toward
her. "I 'ain't had a drink in a month," he informed her.
She laughed and was silent for a moment. Looking down at the floor, she
asked, "Did you come alone, daddy?"
"Yes," he answered, slowly scrutinizing her. "Why didn't you speak to
John before you left the court to-day?" he asked, after a moment in
which he gazed at her intently.
Tears came into her eyes and she leaned her head on his shoulder. "I
just couldn't, daddy, that was all."
Bill placed a reassuring hand on her hair.
"Well, it's all right. I fixed it for you," he said, slowly. Millie
stepped back aghast, blushing violently. "You did _what_?"
But Bill was unabashed. "I got him to promise he would come over here
and see you." Bill had done no such thing, but the one flaw to a perfect
happiness for him was the thought that John Marvin and Millie might not
make up.
"You asked him to come over and see me?" Millie asked, in dismay.
"No," said Bill, with a quiet grin; "I just told him you were crazy to
see him. You would have lost him if it hadn't been for me. Every girl in
Reno is crazy about John, but I got him so he's willing to marry you."
"Oh, daddy, I don't know what I am going to do with you!" Millie was
almost in tears and leaned dejectedly on a shoulder indifferent through
habit and not will.
"You don't mean to say you asked John Marvin to marry me?" she pouted.
"Sure I did," said Bill, untouched by any thought of having done what
was not right. "It was a tough job after the way you treated him," he
admonished, dropping into the chair and tipping it back while he clasped
his hands behind his head and whistled. "I told him," he went on, "that
you had made a fool of yourself, but that most women did that now and
then, and not to mind it. After he's been married awhile he'll get used
to it. I asked him, if you would own up that you were wrong like mother
did, would he give you another chance?" Bill looked up at her, adding,
complacently, "'Ain't I done a good piece of business?"
Millie gave one shriek and ran up the stairs. Bill, unmoved by any sense
of his own iniquity, followed her to the foot of the staircase, calling
after her, "Now, if you beg his pardon when he comes--"
She stopped at the top step and looked back. "Beg his pardon!" she
exclaimed, defiantly. "I don't even intend to _see_ him when he comes!"
Bill held out one hand toward her in a deprecating gesture.
"Oh, come along down-stairs again." Taking a little square box from his
pocket, he opened it and held it up to view, saying, "If you don't see
him, what is he going to do with this?"
"What is it?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her anger
as she came slowly back down the stairs. Bill showed her his prize in
its nest of bright purple velvet. "He got it for you. He sent me out to
buy it while he was in court!"
Mildred looked at the thing, and with one long "Oh!" of disgust she
turned and went through the door into the dining-room.
Alone once more, Bill walked slowly, going to the desk and looking at
the register. Then he went back of the desk, examining familiar
objects. Suddenly his eyes rested on the electric-light switchboard. He
played with the lights for several seconds, turning them out finally.
With a start he grunted, "Now I broke 'em." Pushing the button again,
the lights came on, revealing Mrs. Jones, who had tiptoed in from the
dining-room when Millie told her Bill was there. When he saw her he came
out from behind the desk and she hurried toward him with outstretched
arms.
"Are you all right, Bill?" she asked, tenderly. And Bill, smiling,
leaned over her and breathed so that she could see that he was all
right. But she had been through so much lately and where Bill was
concerned there was more tenderness than humor in her attitude.
"Aren't you all tired out, dear?" she asked.
Bill grinned sheepishly. It was a long time since his wife had shown
such affection for him. "No," was his quick reply.
But her conscience bade her make sure that he was comfortable. She drew
a big arm-chair from the corner and placed it in the center of the
room, taking a pillow from the sofa and putting it on the back of the
chair. Gently she sat Bill down in it.
He didn't know what to make of it all and he looked up at her, asking,
with a chuckle:
"What's the matter, mother, you sick?"
She laughed. "No, Bill, I ain't sick. I'm just thinkin'."
Bill looked straight ahead of him.
She took her rocking-chair and placed it next to him. Clasping one of
his hands, she leaned forward.
"You've forgiven me, 'ain't you, Bill?"
"Yep," chirped Bill, without so much as a glance.
Her attempt to make love to Bill was not meeting with the success she
had hoped, but she was bound to make up to him for all the sorrow of the
last few months, and so she did not notice his apparent indifference.
"Just think," she exclaimed, enthusiastically, "the place is ours
again!"
"You mean it's yours again," said Bill, slowly.
"No," She shook her head emphatically. "_Ours_, after this, Bill."
"All right," Bill replied, again not moving.
Mrs. Jones, seeing that her attempts to be affectionate were falling
upon unfertile ground, dropped his hand.
"How did Mr. Marvin manage to get it away from them?" she asked.
For the first time Bill took interest.
"I fixed it," he said, sitting up straight in his chair. "Do you want me
to tell you how much money you get out of the waterfall?"
"Yes, Bill. But please say _we_ get it."
"You mean I get half of it?"
Mrs. Jones nodded.
"And you're going to keep it for me?" he went on.
She smiled at him and nodded again.
"How did you know about my getting the place back?" he asked.
"Lem Townsend told me," she informed him. "Did you know that he and Mrs.
Davis were married to-day?"
Bill didn't know it, but he didn't intend that his wife should know
this. Playing up to form, he smiled indulgently upon her as he stated,
glibly, "Yes, I fixed it!"
They smiled wisely upon each other and Mrs. Jones once again took her
husband's hand.
"We won't have any more divorce people here, will we, Bill?"
"Then you will have to close up," was his answer.
"I want to close up, Bill." Her voice was full of deep tenderness. "I
want to have a home again."
"All right," Bill said, getting up from the chair. Display of affection
always embarrassed him. His attitude amused and at the same time hurt
Mrs. Jones, so she changed her subject to one that she felt might
interest him.
"We are all going to have some supper soon, Bill. I have been cooking
it," she said.
Bill patted her tenderly on the hand. "Mother, I found out one thing
when I was at the Home. I found that you were a good cook."
She smiled happily, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. Bill
looked at her a moment in surprise; then he laughed.
A shadow crossed her face and she gazed into his eyes. "You don't mind
my doing that, do you, Bill?" she asked.
There was a pause for a moment. Bill shifted awkwardly from side to side
as he stood up.
"No, I guess I don't," he said.
Mrs. Jones walked toward the dining-room, pausing half-way across the
room.
"Bill," she said, glancing down at the floor, "would you kiss me?"
Bill gaped at her in surprise.
"Yes," he said, slowly walking to her. Mrs. Jones saw his hesitation,
and, realizing the humor of the situation, laughed heartily.
"Oh, never mind, Bill! You can kiss me later."
"Now, mother, I was going to." He grinned and followed her to the door,
but she was through it before he could reach her. He stood still and was
about to reopen the door when Marvin burst in, out of breath, but a new
radiance in his eyes.
"Why, John," Bill remarked, "I thought you were going over to the
cabin!"
"Well, I was," said Marvin. "But I heard about Lem and Mrs. Davis being
married, and I knew that everybody would be over there having a good
time. I didn't mean to be out of it. Where's your wife?"
"Oh, she's all right. She's cooking supper," Bill replied.
Marvin hesitated a moment. He went to a window and looked out; then he
came back, putting his arm through Bill's.
"Is Millie--?"
He could get no farther, for Bill interrupted him.
"Oh yes, she's waiting for you. She's afraid you're not going to forgive
her."
"Well, I think I can convince her of my forgiveness," said Marvin.
Delving into his pocket Bill brought forth the ring.
"When you see her just give her this," he said.
Marvin smiled. "Now I know why you borrowed that two dollars this
afternoon!"
"Sure! You can find her. She's around some place. After you give it to
her come in to the party."
"What party?"
Bill nodded toward the dining-room door. "Lem and his wife are giving a
party and we want you to come. But you can't come until you get Millie,"
said Bill.
Marvin turned and walked toward the stairs, wondering where Millie was.
His thought brought his wish, for she parted the curtains and came
slowly down. She stopped when she saw him, but there was a look in his
eyes that she could not mistake and her heart was beating as it had not
done for many months, ever since she and Marvin had walked on the shores
of Lake Tahoe many months ago.
"Daddy has told you what I should say to you, hasn't he?" she asked,
coming slowly down the stairs. Marvin went half-way up.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Well, I have made a fool of myself and I am ashamed of myself and I beg
you to forgive me!"
Pausing on the stairs, she lowered her eyes, coloring deeply. Marvin
could not help laughing, and there was a dimple of amusement in Millie's
cheek. He put an arm around her and led her down into the lobby.
"I could tell you something better than that to say," he stated, seeing
that her eyes were at last answering his, "you might say, for example,
'John, dearest, I know that you love me always,' because that is
something a woman must know!"
They both laughed delightedly at this repetition of the words he had
used in the court-room.
"And I suppose I should say"--but here Millie turned her head
away--"please marry me!"
"Exactly!" Marvin cried. "And my answer is, Yes, Millie--if you will
have me!"
Suddenly he remembered the horrible ring Bill had bought. He took it
from his pocket, saying, with mock tenderness, "Millie, I want to show
you something, and--"
[Illustration: ... HE TOOK IT FROM HIS POCKET, SAYING, "MILLIE, I WANT
TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING"]
"I have seen it!" she interrupted, laughing softly, glancing down at the
object in its gaudy setting.
"Well, we mustn't disappoint Lightnin'," said Marvin. "Put it on your
finger, dear, for the old fellow's sake and let him see it. It will show
him that his efforts were not in vain--no ring could be more beautiful
in thought than this one!"
"You're right, John!" she said, with shining eyes, as she slipped the
thing on her finger and raised her face for a kiss.
At that psychological moment Bill stuck his head in the door. He
withdrew, of course, but only to return in an instant with the whole
party at his heels.
Bill was leading his wife by the hand. Gesturing toward Marvin and
Millie, his shrewd old eyes fairly snapping with whimsical happiness,
Lightnin' exclaimed:
"Mother--look! I fixed that!"
THE END
BOOTH TARKINGTON'S NOVELS
_SEVENTEEN._ Illustrated by Arthur William Brown.
No one but the creator of Penrod could have portrayed the immortal young
people of this story. Its humor is irresistible and reminiscent of the
time when the reader was Seventeen.
_PENROD._ Illustrated by Gordon Grant.
This is a picture of a boy's heart, full of the lovable, humorous,
tragic things which are locked secrets to most older folks. It is a
finished, exquisite work.
_PENROD AND SAM._ Illustrated by Worth Brehm.
Like "Penrod" and "Seventeen," this book contains some remarkable phases
of real boyhood and some of the best stories of juvenile prankishness
that have ever been written.
_THE TURMOIL._ Illustrated by C. E. Chambers.
Bibbs Sheridan is a dreamy, imaginative youth, who revolts against his
father's plans for him to be a servitor of big business. The love of a
fine girl turns Bibbs' life from failure to success.
_THE GENTLEMAN FROM INDIANA._ Frontispiece.
A story of love and politics,--more especially a picture of a country
editor's life in Indiana, but the charm of the book lies in the love
interest.
_THE FLIRT._ Illustrated by Clarence F. Underwood.
The "Flirt," the younger of two sisters, breaks one girl's engagement,
drives one man to suicide, causes the murder of another, leads another
to lose his fortune, and in the end marries a stupid and unpromising
suitor, leaving the really worthy one to marry her sister.
THE NOVELS OF MARY ROBERTS RINEHART
_DANGEROUS DAYS._
A brilliant story of married life. A romance of fine purpose and
stirring appeal.
_THE AMAZING INTERLUDE._ Illustrations by The Kinneys.
The story of a great love which cannot be pictured--an
interlude--amazing, romantic.
_LOVE STORIES._
This book is exactly what its title indicates, a collection of love
affairs--sparkling with humor, tenderness and sweetness.
_"K."_ Illustrated.
K. LeMoyne, famous surgeon, goes to live in a little town where
beautiful Sidney Page lives. She is in training to become a nurse. The
joys and troubles of their young love are told with keen and sympathetic
appreciation.
_THE MAN IN LOWER TEN._ Illustrated by Howard Chandler Christy.
An absorbing detective story woven around the mysterious death of the
"Man in Lower Ten."
_WHEN A MAN MARRIES._ Illustrated by Harrison Fisher and Mayo Bunker.
A young artist, whose wife had recently divorced him, finds that his
aunt is soon to visit him. The aunt, who contributes to the family
income, knows nothing of the domestic upheaval. How the young man met
the situation is entertainingly told.
_THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE._ Illustrated by Lester Ralph.
The occupants of "Sunnyside" find the dead body of Arnold Armstrong on
the circular staircase. Following the murder a bank failure is
announced. Around these two events is woven a plot of absorbing
interest.
_THE STREET OF SEVEN STARS._ (Photoplay Edition.)
Harmony Wells, studying in Vienna to be a great violinist, suddenly
realizes that her money is almost gone. She meets a young ambitious
doctor who offers her chivalry and sympathy, and together with
world-worn Dr. Anna and Jimmie, the waif, they share their love and
slender means.
STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY GENE STRATTON-PORTER
_MICHAEL O'HALLORAN._ Illustrated by Frances Rogers.
Michael is a quick-witted little Irish newsboy, living in Northern
Indiana. He adopts a deserted little girl, a cripple. He also assumes
the responsibility of leading the entire rural community upward and
onward.
_LADDIE._ Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer.
This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. The Story
is told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family, but it
is concerned not so much with childish doings as with the love affairs
of older members of the family. Chief among them is that of Laddie and
the Princess, an English girl who has come to live in the neighborhood
and about whose family there hangs a mystery.
_THE HARVESTER._ Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs.
"The Harvester," is a man of the woods and fields, and if the book had
nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man it would be notable.
But when the Girl comes to his "Medicine Woods," there begins a romance
of the rarest idyllic quality.
_FRECKLES._ Illustrated.
Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which he
takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great
Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs to
the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story with "The
Angel" are full of real sentiment.
_A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST._ Illustrated.
The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, loveable type of
the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness
towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty of
her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and
unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage.
_AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW._ Illustrations in colors.
The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. The
story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love.
The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and
its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all.
_THE SONG OF THE CARDINAL._ Profusely illustrated.
A love ideal of the Cardinal bird and his mate, told with delicacy and
humor.
ZANE GREY'S NOVELS
_THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS_
A New York society girl buys a ranch which becomes the center of
frontier warfare. Her loyal superintendent rescues her when she is
captured by bandits. A surprising climax brings the story to a
delightful close.
_THE RAINBOW TRAIL_
The story of a young clergyman who becomes a wanderer in the great
western uplands--until at last love and faith awake.
_DESERT GOLD_
The story describes the recent uprising along the border, and ends with
the finding of the gold which two prospectors had willed to the girl who
is the story's heroine.
_RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE_
A picturesque romance of Utah of some forty years ago when Mormon
authority ruled. The prosecution of Jane Withersteen is the theme of the
story.
_THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN_
This is the record of a trip which the author took with Buffalo Jones,
known as the preserver of the American bison, across the Arizona desert
and of a hunt in "that wonderful country of deep canons and giant
pines."
_THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT_
A lovely girl, who has been reared among Mormons, learns to love a young
New Englander. The Mormon religion, however, demands that the girl shall
become the second wife of one of the Mormons--Well, that's the problem
of this great story.
_THE SHORT STOP_
The young hero, tiring of his factory grind, starts out to win fame and
fortune as a professional ball player. His hard knocks at the start are
followed by such success as clean sportsmanship, courage and honesty
ought to win.
_BETTY ZANE_
This story tells of the bravery and heroism of Betty, the beautiful
young sister of old Colonel Zane, one of the bravest pioneers.
_THE LONE STAR RANGER_
After killing a man in self defense, Buck Duane becomes an outlaw along
the Texas border. In a camp on the Mexican side of the river, he finds a
young girl held prisoner, and in attempting to rescue her, brings down
upon himself the wrath of her captors and henceforth is hunted on one
side by honest men, on the other by outlaws.
_THE BORDER LEGION_
Joan Randle, in a spirit of anger, sent Jim Cleve out to a lawless
Western mining camp, to prove his mettle. Then realizing that she loved
him--she followed him out. On her way, she is captured by a bandit band,
and trouble begins when she shoots Kells, the leader--and nurses him to
health again. Here enters another romance--when Joan, disguised as an
outlaw, observes Jim, in the throes of dissipation. A gold strike, a
thrilling robbery--gambling and gun play carry you along breathlessly.
_THE LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS_ By Helen Cody Wetmore and Zane Grey
The life story of Colonel William F. Cody, "Buffalo Bill," as told by
his sister and Zane Grey. It begins with his boyhood in Iowa and his
first encounter with an Indian. We see "Bill" as a pony express rider,
then near Fort Sumter as Chief of the Scouts, and later engaged in the
most dangerous Indian campaigns. There is also a very interesting
account of the travels of "The Wild West" Show. No character in public
life makes a stronger appeal to the imagination of America than "Buffalo
Bill," whose daring and bravery made him famous.