Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 January 1913 — The Women’s Candidate [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Women’s Candidate

By BYRON WILLIAMS

Copyright 1913, Western Newspaper L'nion C -• i ■ ■ L - 'C SYNOPSIS. In a spirit of fun Mayor Bedight, a summer visitor, Is chased through the woods by ten laughing girls, one of whom he catches and kisses. The girls form themselves into a court and sentence trim to do the bidding of one of their number each day for ten days. A legislative measure opposing woman suffrage, which dropped from the mayor's pocket, is used to compel him to obey the mandates of the girls. His first day of service is with May Andrews, who take's him fishing. They are threatened by the sheriff with arrest. Miss Vining sees what she considers a clandestine meeting between one of the girls and the mayor. The next day he goes driving with Mabel Arney .They meet with an accident, are arrested and locked up. but escape. The mayor returns to the hotel, finds the sheriff waiting for him, and takes refuge in the room of Bess Winters. He plans to get possession of the incriminating bill. With Harriet Brocks the mayor goes to investigate an Indian mound. They are caught In a thunder storm. CHAPTER Vll.—Continued. “I—l’m afraid,” almost sobbing. The mayor put his arm about her gently, soothing her as only a tactful man may soothe a nervous woman. Unconsciously she drew toward him. “Lightning seems terrible,” he spid evenly, “but as a matter of fact there is always more danger on the cars. Statistics prove—” “What’s that?” cried the woman, apprehensively. “I heard a voice.” The mayor peered out. "The sheriff!” he muttered under his breath. Three men were running toward them on the beach, their heads down, ducking the rain. Scrambling from under the boat, May or Bedight -set -off at -top speed up the beach, pausing at the start long enough to whisper. "I’ll be back. Wait.” The sheriff and -his two deputies, weathering the gale with lowered eyes, had not seen the mayor’s flight, in fact, so blinded were their eyes that they ran almost into the girl and the boat before they could stop. “Hello!” bawled the sheriff. ‘‘You’re, !roin Squirrel Inn, ain’t ye? Where’s yer beau?” bluntly. “We’re lookin’ !er him." Miss Brooks drew her feet back under her skirt and replied coldly: One of the best ways to find a man," witheringly, “is to go where he is.” The sheriff’s chest shot out immediately. “Now, Ibok-a-here, young lady, aone of your smartness or we’ll take you along fer accessory before the act Understand?” blustering. “You are wasting your time trying to bully me,” replied the girl, without a tremor in her voice. “I am petiectly harmless and I Lave told you all I know. The man has gone up the beach." “Aw, come on, Sid,” broke in a Blender young fellow, turning his back to the rain. “What the use of arguin’ with th’ gal? She ain't th’ one we had ylsterday.” Without a word the sheriff veered around the boat and, following the fast fading trail, set out in haste after Bedight. Fifteen minutes later the mayor came up from the opposite direction. “I am sorry, Miss Brooks,” he said, sorrowfully, “but I’m afraid you’ll get wet after all. We’ve got to get away from here! I circled around and found the boat these fellows left. I set it adrift with a gale blowing it across the lake, but they are not far behind. We must get under way as soon as possible.” “I don’t, mind a soaking,” replied the yoting woman, bravely. “It’s the —the lightning that frightens me — and that’s about quit." The man righted the dory hurriedly, piled In their belongings and set the boat from the shore with a sturdy shove. A half mile below, on the beach, he caught sight df three men running toward them—and far away on the wave-whipped lake, a tiny dot of brown could be seen rising and fall - ing as it scudded before the wind. It was the sheriff's row boat. “Sleeping out of doors,” said the mayor, smiling at the woman opposite, "is very beneficial to the lungs—especially on an island.” CHAPTER VIII. When the waves are running freely It is a stiff pull from Mine Host’s select little hotel in the Wisconsin woods to Glen Island, but on a perfect moonlight night, with just breeze sufficient to ripple the fair hair of a pretty girl opposite, the man at the oars seldom finds the task arduous. Nor did Mayor Bedight complain. The running ripple slapped the prow of the boat rhythmically and from the shadows along the approaching shore of the island the weird hoot of an owl

proclaimed the witchery of the night. With a scarcely perceptible tilt, the boat grounded on the shelving sandy shore. Bedight sprang out and pulled the craft further upon its cushioned anchorage. The girl sat in- the boat, intently watching the mayor. That, gentleman took from -the locker a basket well laden. Quickly gathering some! dry wood, he stacked it over a bunch of tinderlike weeds, touched a match to the pile, set the basket at a safe distance and pulling a revolver from his pocket, fired in the general direction Of the moon. Having maneuvered thus peculiarly, he hastened hack to the boat, shoved off and rowed from the shore a hundred yards. Resting on his oars, he let the boat toss idly upon the lake. Five, ten minutes passed. The dry wood burned brightly, making a beacon of light, into the circle of which there came, at last, three shadows, followed by unintelligibly conversation. “They’ve found it,” said the mayor, picking up his oars and turning the boat toward the hotel. It was midnight when the sides of the craft rubbed its sister boats at Mine Host’s dock. The mayor and the girl crept softly up the winding pathway toward the hotel. Suddenly, in the moonlight ahead, the form of a woman appeared advancing to meet them. The mayor and the girl saw her simultaneously. He stopped instantly with a restraining hand upon the girl’s arm. “Quick!” he commanded, springing in front of his companion and turning her about face. “Walk rapidly down the path to the boathouse.” She complied instantly. Over his shoulder the mayor saw the woman hesitate, then follow de 7 terminedly through the shimmering moonlight. “Go into the boathouse,” directed Bedight hurriedly. “Wait until I engage her in conversation. Then open the rear door and run for the hotel. And be quiet!”

“I’'Understand,” whispered the , girl, excitedly. Slipping through the door, she closed it softly. Pulling a cigar from his pocket, the mayor scratched a match on the sole of his shoe and blew a puff of smoke at the same target which qarlier in the evening be had failed to hit with his leaden missile. The woman rounded the corner and came directly toward him. “I beg your pardon, Mr. Bedight,” said “Judge” Vining in a cold, formal voice, “for following you, but as chaperone of the young ladies at the hotel I feel that ’it was my duty to do Sb. The mayor bowed. “Duty to the one performing it,” he interrupted gallantly, “is oftentimes irksome, but begrudgingly done frequently conveys pleasure to another. I do not desire to appear selfish in your eyes, but I find your duty pleases me. greatly,” bowing again. “Now, the moonlight—” The “judge” made a deprecating gesture. “Do not attempt to evade,” she warned. “I am deeply in earnest. Where is the —the —” She seemed at a loss to proceed. Finally she threw diplomacy to the winds. “Who was the girl with you—alone—at this hour of the night? I have a right to know and I—had thought you a gentleman, though I should have known that no gentlemqp would have—have —” she finished lamely. “Kissed you?” questioned the mayor, the frivolity scarcely gone from his voice. “Certainly!” she flashed. Bedight puffed thoughtfully at his cigar, the fragrant pungency of the

tobacco wafting to Jackie as she stood ill the moonbeam’s path, the light giving an ethereal beauty to her trim, erect figure. “It was wrong, I admit," he said impulsively, “I am willing to admit that —but I refuse to believe that no gentleman could be other than honored by such a privilege. As one who has. tried to be such, I would be willing to do it agaip if—” “Mr. Bedight”—the voice was keen now—and the mayor hesitated. "I did not come here to bandy words. I never shall cease regretting that I am in a sense guilty tff a misdemeanor which makes it impossible for me to condemn you as I should—but I warn you not to presume to justify further presumption.” Miss Vining paused effectively. "But you have not answeredfny

question, Mt, Bedight,” she continued “Who was the. girl that came down the path with you?” The man drew closer tq' het. The flippancy was gone from his voice. His face was earnest. “Miss Vining, you have inferred •that I am guilty of conduct unbecoming a gentleinan. A few mornings ago you ran after me in a spirit of mischief, and In the same spirit I caught you in my arms and kissed you. If I have hurt you I am sincerely sorry, but I, too, am reapipg the fruit of folly. You have chosen to arm yourself with a distant demeanor toward me, you rebuff my attempts at entering the circle of your real self, you are “judge” both on and off; the bench, distant, suspicious, haughty. • You pursued me; I took toll. With your permission I promise to forget that you ran, but I cannot forget that I kissed you. I am not a boy. I have seen som eof the world. 1 do not know much about love. I have been too busy trying to do something, to fall in love, or else I never

have happened to meet the woman. Since coming here I don’t know exactly what sort of an enchantment I have entered- —but I do know that I cannot forget the ecstasy of the moment when our lips met. You may scorn me and it lies within your power to discipline me—or defeat me—but I shall not try to obliterate the thrill of that brief moment!” Jackie Vining did not meet his eyes. In her heart she felt a strange, new feeling of elation, a softening of resentment, but women were theorems long befor e math ema t ieians s trnggled with triangles and hypotenuses, and all their non-understand-able descendants, beautiful and sweet and charming as they are, still persist in being man’s hardest problem. “Your frankness in some things,” she said without emotion, “is as commendable as your lack of it in others. Must I repeat my question still another time? Who is the girl?” The mayor spoke firmly' and with decision. “As a man who is at least that much of a gentleman, I refuse to answer. The girl has done no wrong. She—” . “Mr. Bedight, on Tuesday night I saw one of my crowd of young ladies leave the arbor after a clandestine night meeting with you. Tonight I chance to blunder upon you at midnight, again in the company of a young woman. Thene are no others here, aside from our party. I feel a responsibility and I must insist on your answering,” The mayor shrugged his shoulders. “Who was she?” asked the “judge” for the fourth time. “Why don’t you ask her yourself said the mayor. “Where is she?” “The last I saw of her she went through that door,” he replied, doggedly. Miss Vining stepped toward the door and opened it. In the farther end of the boathouse a second door stood open and through it the moonlight streamed. “I see I have been outwitted.” angrily. “May I walk to the hotel with you?” asked the mayor humbly. “I prefer to go alone,” she replied in a tone of finality, starting up the path. “Miss Vining!” It was the mayor calling from the dock. ' She stopped. “What is it, Mr. Bedight?" impatiently. “You remember saying the girl with me must be one of your party because there were no other young ladies about ?” _ “Yes,” crisply. The mayor’s voice had something of the old ring in it as he asked: “Did you think of the colored cook?” - But the “judge,” going up the path briskly, did not deign to reply. (TO BE CONTINUED.)

Fired in the General Direction of the Moon.

Alice Mason.