Evening Republican, Volume 20, Number 224, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 September 1916 — The Rhome Word [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Rhome Word

By GEORGE ELMER COBB

(Copyright, 1916, by W. G. Chapman.) "That’s luck!” uttered Air. Lionel Wray, as his daughter at the wheel, their auto crept Into the public garage and stopped dead short. “Yes, I’m thankful to get this far,” echoed Lillian Wray with a sigh of vast relief. “I was afraid we would have to be towed into town." The machine had refused to take a hill on the country road two miles back. However, by using second speed and halting frequently until the carburetor had a normal supply of gas from the chocked-up feed pipe, they just managed to gain the garage at a snail’s pace. It .was a drowsy mid-afternoon hour and there was only one person in the garage. He might be the proprietor, or a customer, judging from his clothes, and Mr. Wray accosted him with some hesitation and timidity as he made his wants known. Lillian reflected that this stranger, at once Interested in their troubles, had a fine Intellectual face and she looked gratified when he announced that, although the garage owner and his helper were both away on a smashup job, he felt an ability to help them out. The young man took off his coat and the sudden transition into a jumper caused Lillian to smile. He spread a tarpaulin under the machine and was soon at work with pump and tools. “Have to take off the sediment trap cover," finally announced the impromptu mechanic. “It’s easy to pump the pipe clear, but it will fill right up again so we might as well make a thorough job of it while we’re at it. She’s stuck hard, but I fancy I can budge her,” and the accommodating

young man once more crept out of sight, a formidable wrench in his hand. It was fully half an hour before he emerged bearing evidences of exhaustive labor and grime, but smiling courageously. “I got it.” he announced with a palpable spice of triumph in his tone and went over to a sink to wash his hands. Lillian edged up to her father. “Papa, dear.” she said, “you will have to let me have some money?— l presume this will be quite a bill —that young man had to work dreadfully hard.” “Certainly, how much, daughter? The mischief!” Going in turn through his pockets, Mr. Wray finding nothing, looked perturbed and dismayed. “What is it, papa?” questioned Lillian anxiously. “Bless me! if I haven’t left money and check book in my other clothes.” “Oh, papa!” palpitated Lillian with concern. “Only seventy-five cents,” she added, glancing into her purse. “What will the young man think of us?” The young man, overhearing, his 'bsfck to them wiping his hands at the towel, smiled quietly. As he faced about Lillian approached him with timidity. ' “The —the charge, please, please?” she faltered. “Oh, that?” responded Vance Elliott, lightly. “Let me see,” and he feigned to consult a written schedule on a desk. “Ah, yes—twenty-five cents." “Twenty-five—” voiced Lillian faintly. “Cents," supplied the smiling amateur workman. “You see, we can’t call this a regular Job, as I am not actping officially. The mechanic’s proportion would be a quarter, so—thanks.” Lillian was immensely relieved. She flashed, however, as her eyes met those of tins courteous obliging helper. There was a slightly quizzical expression In his glance! > Had he overheard her conversation-with her father? , 'An honest man!” exclaimed Mr. £—L—.— ■ : ;

Wray with energy as they left the garage. “He certainly was delightful,” observed Lillian, und there was the to • ken of a sigh In her utterance, as though reluctant to sever association with this splendid young fellow. “Hello!" exclaimed Vance Elliott at high noon exactly three days later. He was on a week’s walking jaunt, putting in the last half of a desultory vacation. He was passing a handsome villa. Gazing beyond its hedge, he caught sight of a young girl seated at a table in a rustic arbor. She had looked up to wave her hand at an old gentleman crossing the lawp towards a small building at the rear of the mansion, suggesting a storehouse or workshop. •‘My friends of the garage,” murmured Elliott, and in a pleased tone. He had not forgotten them, particularly the girl, and he recognized them at once. A maid came to the young lady in the course of a few minutes and they went into the house. Elliott was a bold, original young man. He crowded through the hedge, he approached the arbor, he glanced down at several half written sheets. “Poetry/* he smiled —“and not bad. Ah! I see she has left blank where the rhyming word does not come satisfactorily or euphopiously. ‘I drained life’s chalice all too soon —moon, rune, noon,’ she has noted down. I’ll add to the collection,” and the'fun-lov-ing invader wrote, “spoon.” “ ‘There came to me a carrier dove,’ she has got ‘grove, rove, prove.’ I’ll add my mite,” and he audaciously wrote, “move." His spirit of mischief subdued, there was no excuse for Vance to remain, although he would like to have done so. He crossed the lawn to pass the little building into which he had seen Air. Wray disappear. He glanced in a sashless window* Upon a workbench was a model made up of intricate wheels, shafts, and levers. Standing,, shaking his head dubiously as if at a loss to figure out some perplexing problem regarding the invention, was Mr. Wray. He seemed to give up in despair. He left the little workroom in deep thought. Vance entered it and looked over the machine. Half an hour later Mr. Wray, returning to the place, uttered a cry of surprise to see an intruder absolutely engrossed in working over the machine. “Hey, you!” he hailed challengingly. “Don’t bother me,” retorted the absorbed Vance. “You’re working on a great idea here and —glory, I’ve got it!" He had, indeed, expert mechanician that he was, discovered what Mr. Wray had lacked in his invention for use in a large factory he owned, had failed to find—the connecting link. One hour later Lillian Wray came to the door of the little workshop to summon her father to lunch. She flushed with a quick little gasp as she recognized Elliott. Site knew now where the “rhyme words” had come from. She also made a new discovery •—pendant frdm his watch chain was a coin—a silver twenty-five-cent piece. It turned out that the wealthy Mr. Wray needed just such an expert mechanician as Vance Elliott. It turned out too that frequent business conferences at the home of the capitalist became.quite regular, so, of course, Vance saw a good deal of Lillian. And one balmy afternoon as they were drifting placidly down stream in a row boat, he made the remark: “In suggesting rhymes for your pretty poetry, Miss Wray, I omitted a very suitable one for ‘dove.’ ” “Indeed," murmured Lillian consciously expectant of the sequence. “Yes, it was ‘Love,’ ” and. with that as his text, this remarkably eloquent ami persuasive young man proceeded to plead his cause —successfully.

“I Got It,” He Announced.