Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 276, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 November 1912 — EXCUSE ME! [ARTICLE]

EXCUSE ME!

By Rupert Hughes

Novelised from ef ILLUSTRATED Btv Hwy W. Serai*

»H.K.nyOa a* SYNOPBIS. Lieut. Harry Mallory to ordered to the Philippines. He and Marjorie Newton decide to elope, but wreck of taxicab prevents their seeing minister on the way to the train. Transcontinental train Is taking on passengers. Porter has a lively time with an Englishman and Ira Lathsop, a Yankee business man. The elopers liave an exciting time getting to the train. "Little Jimmie” Wellington, bound for Reno to get a dlvoroe, boards train In maudlin condition. Later Mrs. Jimmie appears. She to also bound for Reno with name object. Likewise Mrs. Sammy Whitcomb. Latter blames Mrs. Jimmie for her marital troubles. Classmates of Mallory decorate bridal berth. Rev. and Mrs. Temple start ea a vacation. They decide •s out loess and Temple removes evidence of his calhng. Marjorie decides to let Mallory proceed alone, but train starts while they are lost In farewell. Passengers Join Mallory's classmates In giving couple wedding haxlng. Marjorie Is distracted. Ira Lathrop, woman-hating bachelor, discovers an old sweetheart, Annie Oat tie, a fellow passenger. Mallory vainly hunts for a preacher among the passengers. Mrs. Wellington hears Little Jimmie's Voice. Later she meets Mrs. Whitcomb. Mallory reports to Marjorie Ms failure to find a preacher. They decide to pretend a quarrel and Mallory finds a vacant berth. Mrs. Jimmie discovers Wellington on' the train. Mallory again makes an unsuccessful hunt for a preacher. Dr. Temple poses as a physician. Mrs. Temple Is Induced by Mrs. Wellington to smoke a, cigar. Sight of preacher on a station platform raises Mallory’s hopes, but he takes another train. Mlselng hand baggage compels the couple to borrow from passengers. Jimxnie gets a cinder In his eye and Mrs. -Jimmie gives first aid. Coolness is then oresumed. Still no clergyman. More borrowing. Dr. Temple puzzled by behavior •of different couples. Marjorie’s Jealousy aroused by Mallory’s baseball jargon. Marjorie suggests wrecking the train In bopes that accident will produce a preacher. Also tries to Induce the conductor to bold the train so she can shop. Marjorie’s dog Is missing. She pulls the cord, stopping the train. Conductor restores dog and lovers quarrel.

t CHAPTER XXVll.—Continued. When they were alone once more, Marjorie, as radiant as April after a Storm, turned her sunshiny smile on Mallory: “Isn’t it glorious to have our little Snoozleums alive and well?” But Mallory was feeling like a March day. He answered with a sleety chill: “You care more for the dog than you do for me." “Why shouldn’t I?” Marjorie answered with wide eyes, “Snoozleums never would have brought me on a wild goose elopement like this. Heaven knows he didn’t want to come.” Mallory repeated the Indictment: "You love a dog better than you love your husband.” “My what?” Marjorie laughed, then she spoke with lofty condescension: "Harry Mallory, if you’re going to be Jealous of that dog, I’ll never marry you the longest day I live.” “So you’ll let a dog come between ns?” he demanded. “I wouldn’t give up Snoozleums for s hundred husbands,” she retorted. “I’m glad to ktfow It in time,” Mallory said. “You’d better give me back that wedding ring.” Marjorie’s heart stopped at this, hut her pride was in arms. She drew herself up, slid the ring from her linger, and held it out as if she scorned It: “With pleasure. Good afternoon, Mr. Mallory.” Mallory took it aB if it were the merest trifle, bowed and murmured: “Good afternoon, Miss Newton.” He stalked out and she turned her back on him. A casual witness would have said that they were too indifferent to each other even to feel anger. As a matter of romantic fact, each was on fire with love, and aching madly with regret. Each longed for strength to whirl round with outllung arms of reconciliation, and neither could be so brave. And so they parted, each harking back fiercely one word of recall from the other. But neither spoke, and Marjorie sat staring at nothing through raining eyes, while Mallory strode into the Men’s Hoorn as melancholy as Hamlet with \ Yorlck’s skull in his hands. It was their first great quarrel, and they were convinced that the world might as well come to an end.

CHAPTER XXVIII. The Woman-Hater's Relapse. The observation room was as lonely as a deserted battlefield and Marjorie as doleful as a. wounded soldier left behind, and perishing of thirst, when the conductor came back with Snoozleums In his arms. He regarded with contemptuous sm petty pause of so great an wrest as the stopping of the TransAmerican. He expected to see Marjorie receive the returned prodigal with wild rapture, but she didn’t even r«en« when be said: “Here's your powder-puff." Ole just took Snoozleums on her lap, and, looking up with wet eyes And a sad smile, murmured: •Dunk you very much. Tou're the wtff.fff conductor I ever met If you «ewr want another position, HI see my father gets you one.’* H was tike offering the kaiser a 'as« lob. but the conductor swallowed

the insult and sought to repay It with' TTssy: Ts* ——— *” “Thanks. And If you ever want to run this road for a couple of weeks, just let me know.” Marjorie nodded appreciatively and said 1 : "I will. You’re very kind.” y And that completed the rout of that conductor. He retired In disorder, leaving Marjorie to fondle Snoozleums with a neglectful Indifference that would have greatly flattered Mallory, if he could have seen through the partition that divided them. But he waa witnessing with the cynical superiority of an aged and disillusioned man the, to him, childish behavior of Ira Lathrop, an eleventhhour Orlando. For just as Mallory moped Into the smoking-room, at'one door, Ira Lathrop swept in at the other, his face rubicund with embarrassment and ecstasy. He had donned an old frock coat with creases like ruts from long exile In his trunk. But he was feeling like an heir apparent; and he startled everybody bjy his Jovial hall; "Well, boys—er—gentlemen the drinks are on me. Waiter, take the orders.” Little Jimmie woke with a start, rose hastily to his feet and saluted, saying: “Present! Who said take the orders?” “I did,” said Lathrop, “I’m giving a party. Walter, take the orders.” “Sarsaparilla,” said Dr. Temple, but they howled him down and ordered other things. The porter shook his head sadly: “Nothin’ but sof’ drinks In Utah, gemmen.” A groan went up from the clubmembers, aud Lathrop groaned loudest of all: “Well, we’ve got to drink something. Take the orders. We’ll all have sarsaparilla.” Little Jimmie Wellington came to the rescue.

“Don’t do anything desperate, gentlemen,” he said, with a look of divine philanthropy. “The bar’s closed, but Little Jimmie Wellington is here with the life preserver." From his hip-pocket he produced a silver flask that looked to be big enough to carry a regiment through the Alps. It was greeted with a salvo, and Lathrop said to Jimmie: “I apologize for everything I have said —apd thought—about you.” He turned to the porter: “There ain’t any law against giving this way, is there?" The porter grinned: “Not if you-all bribe the exercise-inspector.” And he held out a glass for the bribe, murmuring, “Don’t git tired,” as it was poured. He set it inSide his sanctum and then bustled round with ice-iilled glasses and a siphon. When Little Jimmie offered or the flask to Dr. Temple, the clergyman put out his hand with a politely horrified: “No, thank you.” Lathrop frightened him with a sudden comment: “Look at that gesture! Doc, I’d almost swear you were a parson.” Mallory whirled on him with the eyes of a hawk about to pounce, and “The very Idea!” was the best disclaimer Dr. Temple could manage, suddenly finding himself suspected. Ashton put in with, “The only way to disprove it, Doc, is to join us.” The poor old clergyman, too deeply involved in his deception to brave confession now, decided to* do and dare all. He stammered, “Er —ah — certainly,” and held out his hand for his share of the poison. Little Jimmie winked at the others and almost filled the glass. The innocent doctor bowed his thanks. When the porter reached him and prepared to fill the remainder of the glass from the siphon, the parson waved him aside with a misguided caution: “No, thanks. I’ll not mix them.” Mallory turned away with a sigh: “He takes his straight. He’s no parson.” Then they forgot the doctor in curiosity as to Lathrop’s sudden spasm of generosity —with Wellington’s liquor. Wedgewood voiced the general curiosity when he said: “What’s the old woman-hater up to now?” “Woman-hater?” laughed Ira. "It’s the old story, I’m going to follow Mallory’s example—marriage.” “I hope you succeed,” said Mallory. ‘Wherever did you pick up the bride?” said Wedgewood, mellowing with the long glass in his hand. “Brides are easy,” said Mallory, with surprising cynicism. “Where do you get the parson?" “Hang the parson,” Wedgewodfi repeated, “Who’s the gel?”

“I’ll bet I know who she is,” Ashton interposed; “it’s that nectarine of a damsel who got on at Green River." “Not the same!” Lathrop roared. “I found my bride blooming here all the while. Girl I used to spark back in Brattleboro, Vt I’ve been vowing for years that I’d live and die an old maid. I’ve kept my head out of the noose all this time —till I struck this train and met up with Anne. We got to talking over old times —waking up old sentiments. She got on my nerves. I got on hers. Finally I said, ‘Aw, hen, let’s get married. Save price of one stateroom to China anyway.’ She says, ’Damned if I don’t!’—or words to that effect.” Mallory broke in with feverish interest: “But you said you were going to get married on this train.” “Nothing easier. Here’s how!" and he raised his glass, but MaUory hauled It down to demand: “How? that’s what I want to know. How are you going to get married on this parsonTees express. Haro you got a little minister in your suitcase?” Ira beamed with added pride as he explained: "Well, you see, when I used to court Anne I had a rival —Charlie Safe by his name was. I thought he cut dm out, but, be became a clergyman In Utah—Oh, Charlie I I telegraphed

him that I was passing through Os den; ana: woutir he come - down to tbr train and marry me to a charming lady. He always wanted to marrj Anne. I thought It would be a durneti good Joke, to let him marry her —tt me.” “D-dld he accept?" Mallory asked, excitedly, “Is he coming?" “He Is —he did —here’s his tele gram,” said Ira. “He brings the 11 cense and the ring.” He passed 11 over, and as Mallory read It a look of hope spread across his face. But Ira waß saying: “We’re going to have the wedding obsequies right here In this car. You're all invited. Will you come?” ' , There was a general yell of acceptance and Ashton began to sing, “There Was I Waiting at the Church ” Then he led a sort of Indian wardance round the next victim of the matrimonial stake. At the end of the hullaballoo all the men charged their glasses, and drained them with an uproarious “How!” Poor Dr. Temple had taken luxurious delight In the success of his disguise and in the prospect of watching some other clergyman working while he rested. He joined the dance as gaily, if not as gracefully, as any of the rest, and in a final triumph ol recklessness, he tossed off a bumper of straight whisky. Instantly his “How!” changed to “Wow!” and then his throat clamped fast with a terrific spasm that flung the tears from his eyes. He bent and writhed In a silent paroxysm till he was pounded and shaken back to life and water poured down his throat to reopen a passage. The others thought he had merely choked and made no comment other than sympathy. They could not have dreamed that the old “physician” was as ignorant of the taste as of the vigor of pure spirits. After a riot of handshaking and good wishes, Ira was permitted to escape with his life. Mallory followed him to the vestibule, when he caught him by the sleeve with an anxious: “Excuse me.”

“Well, my boy—” “Your minister—after you get through with him—may I use him?” “May you—what? Why do you want a minister?” “To get married.” “Again? Good Lord, are you a Mormon?” “Me a Mormon!” “Then what do you want with an extra wife? It’s against the law — even in Utah.” “You don’t understand.” “My boy, one of us is disgracefully drunk.” “Well, I’m not,” said Mallory, and then after a fierce inner debate, he decided to take Lathrop Into his confidence. The words came hard after so long a duplicity, but at last they were out: “Mr. Lathrop, I’m not really married to my wife.” “You young scoundrel!” But his fury changed to pity when he heard the history of Mallory’s illfated efforts,, and he promised not only to lend Mallory his minister at second-hand, but also to keep the whole affair a secret, for- Mallory explained his intention of having his own ceremony in the baggage-car, or somewhere out of sight of the other passengers. Mallory’s face was now as the cold embers of hope leaped into sudden blaze. He wrung Lathrop’s hand, saying: "Lord love you, you’ve saved my life —wife —both.” Then he turned and ran to Marjorie with the good news. He had quite forgotten their epoch-making separation. And she was so glad to see him smiling at her again that she forgot it, too. He came tearing into the observation room and took her by the shoulders, whispering: “Oh, Marjorie, Marjorie, I’ve got him! I’ve got him!” “No, I’ve got him,” she said, swinging Snoozleums into view. Mallory swung him back out of the way: “I don’t mean a poodle, I mean a parson. I’ve got a parson.” “No! I can’t believe it! Where is he?" She began to dance with delight, but she stopped when he explained: “Well. I haven’t got him yet, but I’m going to get one.” “What —again?” she groaned, weary of this old bunco game of hope. “It’s a real live one this time," Mallory insisted. “Mr. I athrop has ordered a minister and he’s goikg to lend him to me as soon as he’s through with him, and we’ll be .married on this train." (TO BE CONTINUED.)