Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 73, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 March 1911 — CAUGHT HIM WITH THE GOODS [ARTICLE]

CAUGHT HIM WITH THE GOODS

How Gladys' Father Nailed Mr. Flek. leton Through One of the Triumphs of Science. The girl’s father met the young man tn the hall. The time was some nights later. There was a peculiar gleam of triumph in the elder man’s eye which the younger man was totally at a loss to fathom. “You wish to speak with me before Miss Gladys comes down?” said the caller, repeating the words of the other. “I do, young man,” replied the girl's father; “just step in the parlor; I will dot detain you more than a few minutes. Doubtless you aro aware of the recent ; remarkable •strides of science.” “Er —some of them.” “And doubtless you are familiar with the amazing invention by which it is possible to make a combination x-ray photograph and moving picture of a human being’s brain.” “Hum —I have read something of it, I think. Very wonderful.” “Very wonderful, indeed. Well, the practical part of all this simply is that last Saturday night when you were here alone in the parlor with Gladys, you sat directly In front of one ol these truly wonderful machines. It was in ambush behind the sofa, as it were. You were —er —young people call It holding hands, I have heard—and your conversation was most interesting. So was thp record of emotion, unmistakable emotion, which was coursing through your brain.” The young man gripped violently at the sides of his chair. “Here in my hand,” the young woman’s parent continued, “I hold a combination x-ray photograph and moving picture of your thoughts and feelings at that time. I would give them to you gladly, only they are so precious from a scientific standpoint that hesitate to let them leave my person, even for an Instant. I —that is, Gladys’ mother and myself—trust you will have no occasion to alter your mental pose, for really these are very, very beautiful thoughts. “Yes; I thought I could not be mistaken. Here comes Gladys now. Gladys, here is Mr. Fickleton.” —• Brooklyn Eagle.