Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 136, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 10 June 1914 — BROADWAY JONES [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

BROADWAY JONES

BY EDWARD MARSHALL

FROM m FLAY cf gborgi Kconm

WITH PHOTOGRAPHS FROM SCEND IN THE PLAY QOF>y*tfGtt7: 'ha, enr<tuiaiu.tHQ#A/* cottBMG

. SYNOPSIS. Jackson Jonas, nicknamed "Broadway" because. of his continual glorification oif Now toflc'i groat thoroughfare, U anxKua to get awajT from ht/home town of Jonesvnß.' Abner Jonas, his unole, is nary angry because Broadway refuses to the gum way creates a sensation by his extravagance oh the . White way. Four years Pass .and Broadway suddenly discovers that hefts not only broke, bpt heavily ip <|ebt. He applies to his Unole for a loan and receives a package of chewing gum with tha advice to chew ft and forget his trougtts. BTe quietly seeks work without success. Broadway glyes what Is intendOd tO be a farewell supper to Ms New York friends, and before It is over becptate; ravaged to Mrs. Gerard, arid an-•nd-her youthful dance, but fails to better the situation. He learns that Broadway is broke. CHAPTER Vv—Continued. ‘Tve been .through there on - the train.” "That's bad enough. Guess what I suffered! I got off the train! Oh, you can’t realise what I’ve been through, Bob! I’ve made a bluff and pretended to bo happy all the time; but, believe me, old. pal, there have been times when I’ve started for the Brooklyn I won’t tell you about a bottle.of 'potebn and a gun full of lead which I considered using. I didn’t care about'the money I’d spent; what worriedme was that running in debt, day after' day, with no chance of repaying." , “Stft, you kept on accepting credit.” “And At was wrong—dead wrong! But—well, I guess it must be In my blood.. i couldn’t help it” "How about your uncle?” Broadway laughed, a cackling, scornful laugh. “tie's a rich man. Have you tried him?” “y«s; tried him and found him guilty. I wrote and told hfm I was short of ready cash, after I had spent the pittance that he paid me for my interest in the Jones’ gum. I asked him. if he wouldn’t lend me, say, ten thousand dollars." “HtdChe answer?*’ “Sure-,, he answered. Sent me a package of the gum and the advice: ‘Chew this- and forget your troubles.' He’s in Europe how. He's worth a million, if he's worth a nickel, and he bought me out for practically nothing!” “Stingy?"

“Stingy? He's so mean that every time he’s asked to have a drink he takes a cigar and then‘saves up the cigars, pats them in old boxes, and gives them away for Christmas present*” ‘inhere have you been getting enoUjgbr for tips and pocket money?” “I sold that big French car I said was in dead storage. And do you remember that I said I’d lost a lot of jewcjfry? I hadn’t I had pawned it HouPif my work, eh?” "iwre a wonder 2 I've got to hand it to., you. But why didn’t you confide in me*, long ago?” “lT didn't have enough courage' to confide in anyone. I could only keep on hoping that some miracle would happen. I’ve thought of nothing except, money and how to get it “And, Bob, last night, at that bantfhef table, I sat looking at Mrs. Ge-

yard, thinking of her millions and wondering what she'd say to me if I should tell my story, trying to pluok up nerve enough to take her into my confidence ond see. if she wouldn’t help. That’s hod? It started. 1 didn't realise what 1 vfas doing; but I must have been •taring at her tor ten minutes when she celled a waiter who, presently, handed me a note” “What did it say? Was it from her?” "Yen, and it -sold: ’Why do you stare otmeaer" "Dia you answer it?” “YOC" “What did you say?” “Oh, I couldn't help it—l was desperate. I Bald Because 1 lovq you!' ” "And she answered T’ , “Yee; *1 love you, too' «

“And you wrote?" “ *Not as much as I love you.’ We had quite a correspondence. Seven or eight notes each way." “Who, sent the last one?” “She did, and it said: -Will you marry me?’” .. . “She really proposed to you?” “On- the level, and I didn't say a thing. The letter carrier lost his Job right there. For fear she’d change her mind before the next mail arrived I leaned across the table and yelled: Tes!"’ *Td. gone, you know. Exactly what then happened?” Wallace asked. 7She fainted; general excitement; smelling salts; she slowly came back to her senses. Then the usual speech: ‘Where am I?’ That was my cue of course—although it hurt! Embrace, kiss, announcement to the dinner party; wild applause. Then somebody ordered 20 cases of wine.

“And the next thing J remember is old Rankin calling me when you came here today. What do you think of all of it?” * “J 7 “It’s terrible! You can't afford to let it go any further.” /, “I can’t afford to do anything, without signing a tab for it,” said Broadway ruefully. “You can do something. Haven’t you any ‘get up and go ?’ ” J'That seems to be all that is left for me—to ‘get up and go’—as far as possible—unless I marry her.” “If you’d go to work you’d have the makings of a business man." “If I went to work I wouldn’t have the makingß of a cigarette.” “How do you know? You haven’t tried. I’ll get you a Job.” “Where?” “With my firm, on my recommendation.’’ - 1

“You’d lose your reputation.” ‘Til see the guvnor tomorrow. I can get you, probably, five thousand a year to start with.” “Five thousand a year? How could I stay here in New York on that? I pay more for this apartment! I owe ten times that much, right now!” “I’Ve got twenty thousand dollars of my own. HI lend you that” ‘l’d never be able to pay it back.” “That doesn’t make any difference.” “Yes, it does,” said Broadway stubbornly. “Even though you loaned me enough to pay up all I owe, rd owe you, wouldn’t I? What’s , the odds whether I’m in debt to you or to the other fellow? I’d never get even with the world that way.” “But you mustn’t marry her; it isn’t right.” “How do you mean?” "Would you do anything sb low, and so contemptible, as to marry a woman deliberately for her money?” \ Broadway Bhrank a little, then rose in self-defense. .“Who says I’m marrying her for her money?” “You know you don’t love her.” Broadway answered hotly. He felt that be must answer hotly. “I don’t know anything of the kind! Now, you see here; suppose you were in trouble. Wouldn't you love anyone who’d come along and help you out of It?” He Blghed. "Besides, it’s too late now. The engagement’s been announced.” Wallace was Intensely stubborn. He would not have this thing. “Engagements are broken every day in the week,” he argued earnestly. Broadway made a gesture of dissent. ' “Now, you leave it all to me,” Bald Wallace soothingly. ’Til have a talk with Mrs. Gerard, and I’ll guarantee to prove to her that it’s all an utter impossibility. You needn’t enter Into it at all. Til take the whole thing on my Bhoulders, and —” Broadway shook his head emphatically, although regretfully. “No; there’s no use, Bob. I told you I wouldn’t listen to any argument against it My mind Is quite made up, find that’s all there is to It.” He pulled a yellowback out of his pocket. “See this? ▲ hundred dollars. That’s my bank roll.”

Wallace went to him with friendly warning. “You’ll lose every friend you ever had in ail the world!" 4* “Nor I won’t; people with money never lose their friends.” “I know one you'll lose,” said Wallace gravely. “You?” “Yes; unless you tell me within the next 24 hours that you’ve reconsidered all this rot, and that you’re going to fight things out the way a real man should, I'll never speak to you again!” “Bob!” Broadway actually paled. “That goes; Is it getting me anything—this giving you advice? Will it put a dollar in or out of my pocket whether you marry that old woman or not? You’rC nothing to me except a friend and a pal; bat V don’t want to see yon do something you’ll regret for all the balance of your life. I’m sorry you're in trouble, and there isn’t anything I won’t do to help yon. I*ll go the limit in everything Tve got Bat If you don’t give up all Idea of that marriage, never expect the friendship of • man who has any decency or selfrespect “That’s all I’ve got to say. Now, I'll be going.” CHAPTER VI. Broadway hurried to the angry and disgusted msn and put bis band upon

his arm. He was rather badly funked by this uncompromising attitude. “Walt a minute, Bob,” he urged. “Don’t go off like that That was an awful thing you Just said to me. I—l had a wild night. Give me a chance to think.” ' “ “All right,” said Wallace, not very graciously. ‘‘Go ahead —think! It’s about time you began to think.” He sank into a chair, his gloomy face regarding Broadway with small favor, his angry fingers tapping on a table top. Broadway was very nervous. Realization was becoming vivid of- the fact that he bad not been wholly admirable ; In his general course. “Don’t you suppose I know it’s a shabby thing to do?” he urged. “But, great Scott! look at the fix I’m in!” Wallace made a gesture of negation. It was clear that he refused to grant

that anything could excuse his friend’s course with the widow. “You’re not sore at me, Bob, are you?” Broadway pleaded. ’Tve said my say. You’ve heard my opinion.” *1 C “Do you think everyone will feel that way about it?” “Of course.” , - Broadway was distressed beyond his feeble power of explanation. Pacing up and down, he moaned: * “If it wasn’t for those debts! If it wasn’t for the Mils I owe!” “You don’t know the exact amount?” “No.” “Why haven’t you added them up?” “I haven’t had time. I’ve been—too busy." ' “Doing what?" “Now, don’t give me the third degree, please! Look here! I’m so nervous that I’m trembling like a leaf.*" ’ “Where are those bills?” ‘ln the little room, In my desk.” "Would you mind if I looked them over?” "No; I wish you would. You will do that, Bob?” He was as eager as If examination of them by his businessbeaded friend would mark each one receipted. “But, say, Bob, suppose .1 take your advice and call this thing off. What am I going to say to Mrs. Gerard?” “You won't have to say anything. I’ll handle her.” "Well, what would you say to her?” "Will, you please leave that to me? Go over there and sit down. Do some more thinking. You’ve got many a think coming to you, young fellow! I’m going to see bow much you owe the world." And Broadway did exactly as he Ordered, looking after him almost as a child might after some one had assumed full charge of tangled, Juvenile affairs. Suddenly he realised that some outstanding bills would not be among the mass which Wallace was examining. He would try to get them in. He wished to know the worst, now that he.was at it. He went over to the telephone and called up a certain famous restaurant. After he had told the- manager to make out his bill for the previous evening’s entertainment and let Mm know the total, he sat waiting, with the receiver glued tight to one ear, and, when Rankin entered, called him to him. "You'd better look around for another fob, Rankin.” The butler almost fainted. “Hasn’t my service been satisfactory, sir?” ’ "Oh, yes; everything has been an right; but, you see, Rankin, I'm going to leave town. I—er —expect to do a ldt of traveling.” He gased at Rankin anxiously. He hoped this would be easy. The worry on his face and the cramped position necessary to listening at the telephone and watcMng the butler closely gave him a pitiful expression. He looked as If in pain. v

When Rankin said, respectfully, that, if Mr. Jones was traveling he should like to travel with 'him, Jackson was annoyed. “I’d like to have you, Rankin,” he said weakly, “but, you see, I expect to locate In—er —in Japan, and I’ve got to have some one who understands the language.” That was a' poser. He congratulated himself. That would settle Rankin and get rid of him with no hard feelings. He was really rather fond pf Rankin. But no! ”1 speak Japanese very well, dir,” and the extraordinary butler, with a calm which vouched for his veracity. “I was in service with two Japanese for over five years, and if you think of China, sir, or Russia —” Fortunately for his master’s difficulty maintained composure, two things happened to distract attention. He got his message on the telephone, and the ringing doorbell removed Rankin. *

But the young spendthrift’s calm was brief. “What’s that, again?” he asked the restaurant man anxiously, ‘‘Er —what? Twenty-three hundred and twenty-three dollars? . .•••. - The what? Oh, the . . . vintage!' Is that so? . . . Er . . . not at all. Twenty-three hundred is all right It would be the same to me if you had said —er —twenty-three thousand.” Having hung up the receiver, he sagged down in his chair disconsolately. "Twenty-three! Twenty-three!" he murmured. “And ... the butler speaks Japanese! I can’t win a bet! I'll never forget this day!” * He rose and paced the room, then paused and gazed at the wall calendar. “The thirteenth of the month! No wonder." He threw the offending Harrison. Fisher girl into the grate, as Rankin, returning, announced a persistent visitor who had .declared that he would wait when he had been assured that Mr. Jones was out. Jackson examined the man's card. "Peter Pembroke!" he mused, puzzled. “Where have I heard the name before?". “’.foi “He appears to be a man of some importance, sir.” “And he knows I’m tor’ Rankin nodded. “Oh, well; bring him in. It can’t he any worse.” He called to Wallace. "Bob! Oh, Bob! When you get that total add twenty-three hundred and twenty-three dollars to it" "What for?" "Thuh—vln—tags,” Broadway answered bitterly, as his visitor came in. “Of course you expected me,” were his first words. "My name is Pembroke.”

Broadway was puzzled. “Expected you?" “Didn’t Judge Spotswood wire you that I’d call?” "Spotswood?" “Yes, of Jonesvllle.” “Oh, I know whom you mean, of course. No; he didn’t wire.” •’ “That’s strange. I talked with him over the long-distance phone less than an hour ago, and he told me he had wired you early this morning.” ( “No,” said Broadway definitely. ”1 can’t understand it” “Hold on. Rankin did hand me a wire. I didn’t read it” Broadway searched the table, then his pockets and finally discovered the 1 crumpled and unopened telegram snuggling next his watch. “You have my deepest sympathy, Mr. Jones,” said Pembroke unctuous-

ly, as he was tearing off the envelope end. "Have ir* Jackson was surprised. “You most certainly have, sir. I knew your uncle very well. A fine and able man.” “TJ-m? Er—yes. He is abroad." Pembroke nodded with an unction rapidly increasing. “Yes, How sad that it should happen while he was among mere strangers!” Jackson looked at him, not comprehending in the least, and then turned his attention to the neglected telegram. It read: “Cable from Mr. Graham, London, England, announcing your uncle’s demise, received late last night. His last will and testament made prior to his sailing places you to possession of the estate. His entire fortune, his business, his every earthly posseesion he leaves unconditionally to yon, his nephew and only heir. Shall I come to New York, or expect you here? Pembroke will call on you today. Answer at once.” - - - Broadway scarcely had the strength with which to raise his head after he had read this mighty news. So his uncle had relented at the end! “Great . . . heavens!” ’l'm awfully sorry for you, young man,” said Pembroke sympathetically. Jackson was surprised. Evidently the man knew nothing of the treatment whioh his unole had Invariably given him while he still lived. “You are?” “Ah, - yes; but it Is something through which we must all go to this life.” , i “V.% .. / “What? Go through all he had? Never! 11l never go through all of that if I once really get it” “He was worth his weight to gold,” said Pembroke, still sympathetically. “How much did it total, do you know?” asked Broadway, practically. “That I can’t say. we offered him twelve hundred thousand for his business and good-will less than two months ago. The proposition still holds good, Ms. Jones. We stand ready to cfoae the deal to forty-eight hours. I—er —realize that to your time of trouble and grief it is hardly right to discuss business, but It is vitally important that we bring the matter to a closing point by Saturday noon, as we are considering, at the same time, the purchasing of the Sprucemlnt company. Our preference leans toward the Jones gum, but—”

Broadway, wide-eyed and speechless for the moment, gased at him with dropping jaw. “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. Who is ‘we?* Who stands ready with this offer?” “The company of which I have the honor to he second vice-president, Mr. Jones—the Consolidated Chewing Gum Company of America.” Jackson approached him with an air so serious that it was almost tearful This change in the aspect of affairs had been so sudden that he was somewhat overcome. “Hold on. Let me get this dear. Your people want to buy the Jonhs Gum?” “We do.” “For twelve hundred and fifty thousand dollars V “The top price.” After an instant’s pause in which he licked his lips with nervous tongue, and stood poised as if to spring upon his visitor: “Where's the money? Have you got it with your’ “I can get my lawyers together within an hour, if you are ready to close the deal.” (TO BE CONTINUED.)

"You're Not Sore at Me, Bob, Are You?"

"Great Heavens!"