Daily British Whig (1850), 7 Oct 1926, p. 9

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PET Thunday, October 7, 192. y " THE GIRL IN THE SECOND CABIN "| She was "Oh, that's aml right," answered Trask {ndifferently. "You're good r fi. A hundredl do, so long as everything elee is paid. * * * All right, Spence; I'l go you. Spencer Trumbull vol his first sign of animation. He hauled himself out of his chair and reach- ed for Trask's band "Old Reliable Bill!" he exclaim: od with enthusiasm. "I knew you'd mee ane through. " "You did, eh? Well, I'm always {olng fooMsh things. But this time I'm going to do 'em in your name. {Look out for me, Spence! Suppose I [get lost at sea? Then you're & dead iman----or worse than that, because At you ever show up again I know 'what your old man'll do to. you. You're taking a longer chance than Jd am, son!" "I'll take it. You behaved Detter than I did in the old days." "l never had a thousand--and expenses--and a nurse," sald Trask significantly. "I never had a chane to cut loose and burn up something. Not that I'm kicking; it was good for me 1 didn't. But just turn me loose with a chance, and see what I'm likely to do to it!" "Do you call being chance?" "But I'm not." "You'll have to seem to be. If you don't your murse'll be wise to you.' Trask grinned contentedly. Now that he had crossed his river he was surprisingly satisfied with himself. "Oh, I'll seem to be sick," he sald. "I'll give you your money's worth, Spence, I'll be the sickest young highbrow that ever shipped as a first-class passenger. I suppose it's tirst-class, isn't it? Sure. I'd for- 'gotten that it had bedn engaged for you. I'll play it to the limit, som. Maybe I'll overplay it. " sick a Stage Settings. Trumbull wrinkled his forehead with & symptom of alarm "Oh, 1 won't overplay it until "Rut after that--well, just wait A sails," added Trask reassu~ing- * 11 the news begins to come home. You're Mable to hear some sure- enough stories about yoursal!, Spence." Trask was now finding very keen enjoymient in the prospect. mo- mentarily he had forgotten the ousand---and expenses. Be sudden shift of viewpoint purprised himself even more than ft aid Trumbull. Why not? He needed a job. Here was a' thousand- dollar one. It wasn't permanent, of course; it didn't establish the foundation of a career; it wasn't the 'cornerstone of a reputation. Mut it was better than haunting inhospi- table offices, or reading want ads, pr wondering why the world did not meed the services of an electrical esr, or even a plain jitney river. . "I"1 peed some scedery," he said ply. "Scenery" "Ot course. You eee, the less wou look & mrt the more stage stuff wou require. I don't look sick. There- dove I need an invalid setting, | want a shawl" 1" +1 sald it. A shawl. All invalids swear 'em. A nice warm, Woolly _.ghawl. 1 want several steamer rugs -Oh, I'm going . through "with this now, Spence! And I want a wheel chair." _ "A wheel chair?" "Cut out the echo, som. 1 sald what I wanted, I can't walk, you ow." "But 1 i all sgh" But whea'I'm you, why, I don't. I'm going to play this thing Perea, --------y By E.J.RATH Copyright, 1926, by G. Howard Watt, a mute challenge to masculine attention. right. It doesn't make any difference to me if you can do a hundred in even time, I can't--not when I'm you. I can't éven 'toddle a yard in a year. I'm not only a wreck; I'm just a reminiscence. I'm 'the living mummy of a gilded young man. I'm the ghost of a once iron bound con- stitution, now sadly undermined by the electrolysis of the White Way. 1m going aboard that ship on wheels!" Bpencer Trumbull had sagged back into his leather chair and was staring incredulously, "You're not going to get me in wrong, are you, Bill?" he inquired anxiously. "No chance. Why, I'm going te make a reputation for you! I'm go- ing to make you the sickest youth that ever went down to the sea In a ship----for a thousand and ex- penses. You'll get your money's worth; I'm likely to throw in ex- tras. You'll be the Main High Priest of the Ancient Order of In- vallds before I get through. You'll have all the degrees that were ever patented, with five pounds added. You'll be a front runner from the flag, and you'll breeze in twenty jumps ahead of the field. Now that I'm in it, I'll make you famous, Spence!" "1 say, Bill, yon know--" "Shush! It's settled. Now let's get down to details. I'l get that whesl chair it I have to go out on Fiftn Avenue and let a bus run over my leg." Breakers Ahead. Trask leaped out of his bed and strode to the window. The club fronted on 5th avenue, and he look- ed down into a street already sun- 1t, though it Tas not yet 7 o'clock. He gazed at the world and laughed. "A nervous wrecki" he exclaimed. "Me!" He turned, carefully placed a cha'r in the cenire of the room,' walked away from It, took two quick steps forward and leaped over the back. "And I can't walk," he chuckled. "I'm going to be carried out on wheels!" Then he remembered Trumbull. The room assigned to him adjoined that of the youth who had been doomed to Gaveston, He passed through.the open door and went over to the bed where Trumbull lay asleep. "All aboard for Galveston!™ he shouted, shaking the sleeper. Trumbull sat up with a cry, rub- bed his eyes and swore mildly. "You scared the life out of me," he grumbled. "I thought I was real- ly going. t time is 18?" "Nearly 7» "A fine hour to wake a man!" "Better for you if you walked at 7 oftener," sald Trask, with a grin. "Come, man; out with you. This is the happy day. This is when you go seafaring by proxy. Hurry up; that nurse'll be here by 9 o'clock." Sri, In a Wheel Chair. Trumbull made a sleepy protest. "She sails at 11," cried Trask. "If you don't climb into your clothes and #e0 me through I'll beat it out of here and then you'll have to go yourself." Trumbull rolled out of bed, growl- ng. "Ring tor the barber, Bill," he yawned. "And some preakfast."™ Trask whistled while he dressed. He was always cheerful in the morn- ing, but to-day the world seemed garbed fu a paviiowlar brightness. He was on the threshold of an ad- venture---an adventure that paid cash and expenses. There was an object in the room to which his eye frequently turned, aiid every time he looked at ft he laughtd. The petient wheel chair stood in a cormer, motionless, yet ready. He went over to it and sat back among the cushions. Then he started it going. a Steering the bothered him for a minute; it had & way of turn. guide it through the doorway lead- ing to Trumbull's room. "Some roadster, Spence," he an- nounced as he bowled across th centre of the floor and rammed a table. "Geared a. little low, perhaps, but sale." "1 don't see Why you insisted on that thing," said Trombdull, gazing at it with dn expression wr it, Set me on my feet and couldn't play sick man for the a minute. But this thing the atmosphere, the back. t puts the brakes on my > 5 THE DAILY BRITISH He started the has going again, and backed abruptly into Trumbull, who was standing before a mirror, frowning at his image. The image and its maker collided, bumping heads against the smooth glass, "Good Lord, Bill," cried the af- filcted one. "What the blazes are you doing?" "Threw her into reverse by mis- take," gurgled Trask. "Beg pardon. You ought to wear bumpers. Save you a whole lot in the traffic, you know. Now, watch me." Thé chair raced forward, curved perilously around a chair, ani charged once more in the direction of Trumbull, who dodged with a yell, "Practice that stuff aboard ship!" ha shouted. "What do you think this is? A rink?" Trask shot through the doorway again, scraping the varnish as he passed and sprang out in nis own room. "Youl do," he said, addressing himself to. the motionless vehicle. "You may not have a hundred and forty-inch wheelbase, and your turning radius may be somewhat abrupt, but I'll get the hang of yoa| presently, and I'll make you step a reat ALU fe 11 N / NE like a Miller Special before I get through." They ate breakfast in Trumbull's room. Trask's merriment "was a puzzle to his paliid friend, who had not recovered from the shock of a seven-o'clock awakening, "You mustn't be too gay about this thing, Bil," Trumbull caution ed. "You can't burlesqué it. You've got to play a real part; create a real illusion, j "Watch me. I could play Hamlet in that/wheel chair, Spence, I'm working up a positive affection for it. How long does it takes to get to Galveston?" mnie. Enter Keeler. "Oh, about a week, I guess. I didn't look it up." "Only 8 week? Why, I'll be let- ter-perfect with this jitney in a day. Am I supposed to run it myself, or does the nurse push me around?" "You don't seed it at all" grumbled Trumbull. "It's only an affectation. I wish you'd cut it out and walk aboard." Trask shook his lemnity. "It's my anchor," he explained. "I need it. I wouldn't undertake the head in so- Aluminum Kitchen Utensils - .Beanty and Utility are splendid! combined in the thick; hard: seamless "Wear-Ever" Aluminum utensils. The heat-retainin quali- ties of "Wear-Eve better flavour. ver" give oods a The genuine beve the name on the bottom Aluminum Company of Camda, Limited, Toronto nfo job without it. IT might fobget my- self and do the high hurdles. No. sir; I need that chair. It's to remind me that I'm sick. Isn't it almosi time for that hurse?" There. was a knock at the door and a boy in uniform sald that Mr. Keeler had called to see Mr. Truwm- bull. / "Keeler ?™ "Yes, sir." "Maybe it's the man," suggested Trask. time." "Show Mr. Trumbull. As the boy disappeared Trask bolted into his own room and re- turned, zig-sagging recklessly in the perambulating chair, There was a rug across his knees. His face was a visage of woe, save for the light in his eyes. As he brought the Jugger- naut to a halt he sagged back limp- ly, uttering an ostentstious sigh. "Don't forget, now," warned Trumbull. "And for Heaven's sake, don't spill the beansl" Trask merely winked. Another knock and 'Mr. Keeler" was announced. He entered softly, with a step of caution rather than of hesitancy, closed the door behind him and stood with his back against strait-jacket "It's nearly Keeler up." eald 1 #t. His first survey took note of the | and at the ends of them were ro itself, rather than of its oc- nod. "Mr. Trumbull?" he asked in a} halt whisper, Trumbull pointed to the: figure In the chair, and now, for time, the visitor appeared to noti:e the four-wheeler and its occupant The newcomer started. There was a searching quality in his gray eves as they regarded the half-recumbent form of Billy Trask and then drif*. ed to a survey of Trumbull himse)® | ti he I'm cali. "My name's Keeler," gaid "From Dr. Van Norden. ing for the patient." Again Trumbull pointed. Trask was studying his keeper through half-closed eyelids. He saw a man of middle height and perhaps 30 years. There was an air of sturdiness in his build that bo lied his meek poise. Sometniug mm his shoulders and the set of his head suggested combat. Yet hig eyes were friendly, even conciliatory; his round, smooth-shaven face was any thing but sinister; his mouth-~andy chin were firm, but not guarrel- some. i i i i i | | the frst ison in mourning. {a queer of a surprising size---hairy, kn cupants, a scrutiny which he com- | pleted with an almost imperceptible | heavily knuckled. A Masterful Servants The man was dressed fune | His black suit, his black tie and derby seemed that was still on his & to proclaim him as & His manzer mixture of dejection | self- reliance, mingled in a : | ality that exhaled an intention to DM | master and servant wut the | me % "So you're my croaked Trask indifferently. ] "Yes, sir. But--" Keeler paused uncertainly. "But what?! demanded Trask, "Well, you see, sir, I didn't x= pect to find 'you in a chair, i doctor didn't say. anything about that." 5 "Probably forgot, or didn't think it was necessary. What did he say about me, anyhow?" "Er---nothing much, sir: Of) course, thers were some instru: Be ns, Sa I might say, sir, that those are--well--just matters bas weoh \us professional men.' nurse," His arms hung almost to his knees (To Be Ganunued.). L BEGINNING | eductions on ictor Records Major part of the Red Seal Section of Victor Record Catalog now obtainable at unprecedented prices. 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