Jasper County Democrat, Volume 21, Number 65, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 13 November 1918 — A Matter of Money [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

A Matter of Money

By LINCOLN ROTHBLUM

(Copyright, 1918, by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) Gloria was as delectable a bit of femininity as one could find at the fashionable resort of Norhabor. Barely five feet five in her French-heeled boots, she had a most alluring manner of -looking into your eyes as if your every gesture were precious to her. Despite the adoration paid her, she remained lovable. But beyond these apparent facts, little was known of Gloria Stanley, who came every year to this resort and, to all appearances, plentifully supplied with money. Alw’ays dressed In good taste, with no little vatiety in her costumes, it is not to be wondered that she excited the admiration of the women as well as the men. And now the summer colony was agog with excl tern or Gloria had met her “hero.** And this is the way it happened: Arising one merulng earlier than the other guests, she slipped into her bathing suit and ran lightly across the stretch of sand, Mlrly quivering with’ suppressed excitement and pleasure of her anticipated plunge. Pausing a moment on tiptoe at tiie edge of the pier to drop her bathrobe, and judge her dive, she stretched her arms obliquely downward and sailed through the air, cleaving the water like an'arrow. In a moment her straight body could be seen skimming close to the surface,

then suddenly it stopped as If It had struck a barrier. And there arose above the water two heads, more shocked than hurt by the contact. “I’m so sorry,” Gloria sputtered, as she tyead water. “I didn’t see you before I dove off.” “Mighty careless of me to be in the way,” laughed the young man, with a most engaging smile, as he swam-close by in a very professional manner. “I hope you’re not hurt.” “Not a bit,” she responded, smiling back at him, and‘as a moment’s afterthought, “let’s race to shore.” Taking his compliance as granted, she commenced to augment the distance between thfein with broad, embracing strokes. He let her keep In the lead until but a few feet from shore, then swiftly caught up to h’er, so that they emerged in ryiison, “You swim well,” he said, breathing hard. “I didn’t think I’d have to work bo hard to catch up.” And, although Gloria couldn’t account foT it,- she felt flattered by this stranger’s praise. Out of the corner of her eye* she saw a stalwart manjust a little different from any other she had ever met .before. “Let’s rest,” she suggested, stretching at full length on-the sand, which had just begun to reflect the warmth of the sun now well up in the heavens. He sat down beside her, hands clasped about his knees. It was as if they were children and she had said, “Let’s play.” He entered into the spirit. “My name’s John Turner, he ventured by way of' conversation, “but most folks call me Jack. What’s yours.” “My name is Gloria Stanley, but most folks call me Glory,” she mimicked, her blue eyes twinkling merrily. “I’m staying at the hotel. When did you come?” The young man hesitated. “Oh, I’m not at the hotel,” he. answered hurriedly. “I’m camping on the other side of the lake. That hotel and I my pocketbook don’t hitch.” i As if to avoid the personal trend his ’ remark had given to their conversation, he continued: “But you must be hungry. Hadn’t you better go for breakfast?” Gloria arose and shook the wet sand frdm her suit. “Won’t you come, too?” she asked abruptly, as if against her better judgment. .1 ' “No, no,” he hastily responded, “my breakfast is waiting for me across tha lake.” With serious formality they shook hands, and 1 Gloria turned toward tha hotel veranda, where already could be ■een the ever-wai chful ladies missing

nothing of the scene enacted before them. The next morning, as if by telepathic understanding. Gloria was at the water’s edge at the same hour and in the same costume as the day before. Nor was she disappointed to find the young man already on hand. In the bottom of a canoe lay a neat bundle of wearing apparel. “Thought I’d row across this morning so I could bring my clothes, and after we have our dip, I’d like to accept yesterday’s invitation,” and as the questioning loqjt left her face, he added : “I’m camping by myself— and it’s lonesome.” “Bully,” she cried, striking her palms together man-fashion, “and then it’ll be tennis after breakfast?” Quite naturally he took her hand as they w'aded into the water until the depth permitted swimming. That morning they raced beneath the water, springing above the waves like flying fish, diving in every conceivable position —and in all the young man executed, the girl gamely followed suit. Tired and breathless, they floated on their backs toward shore. And the porch dowagers shook their heads ominously as the laughter of the two figures chasing each other up and down the sand, came faintly to their fears. But neither were prepared for the change clothes made. He had not quite expected to see this boyish girl transformed into the vision standing before him, just a trifle taller in the lowheeled tennis shoes; nor, It must be admitted, had Gloria anticipated the very good impression this white flanneled man seemed to be making upon the Yiotel guests who chanced to see him. And although such admiring glances, ill-concealed, did not displease her, she was wondering ff the others noticed how carefully his finger ran down the price column of the bill of fare. But his seeming parsimony did not mar the ten wonderful days they swam, romped and played together —a very brief span of time Indeed as the hourglass goes, but a sweet eternity of delight to the two who had found companionship in one another. It was a sun, barest two hours awake,, which looked down upon the sorrow of their parting. “Glory,” the young man finally spoke, “these days have been like a wonderful dream to me. I must wake up no.w.” “Do you want my address?” she tearfully and practically asked. “No,” he murmured, and turned away. Gloria gasped. His answer was entirely unprecedented in the annals of Lovemaking. “Did you say ‘no,’ Jack?” she repeated, incredulously. He turned around and held out his hand. “Trust me, little girl,” he softly asked, “wait for me one year "Hll you?” Quite uncomprehendingly, Gloria shook his hand. Head bent, she turned toward the hotel. And though her heart told her that Jack belonged to no other, her reason hade her forget how very much he had come to mean to her. Fall, winter and spring came and went, and with summer arrived Norharbor’s perennial colonists. Gloria, with a charming array of new frocks, appeared as cheerful, winsome and pretty as ever, but exhibited a listless attitude toward her favorite recreation of swimming. , On the third day of her stay, Gloria arose earlier than the other guests and made her way to the lake. As if to leave all her cares behind, she dove from the pier with a high spring and came up—in the arms of Jack Turner. “Jack!” she exclaimed, trying to free herself from his tight embrace. Deftly he tucked her in the crook of his left arm, and striking out powerfully with his right, in a few moments stood her on the sand. Pleasure at his presence and indignation at his conduct fought for control. “Glory I” he commanded," and a wonderful happiness danced in his eyes. “Will you marry me?” Gloria gasped. “Then you’re not already married?” “Of course not. What put that idea into your head?” “Well, why did you leave me that way last sufiimer?” “A man without money canlt ask a girl who can afford the luxuries of this hotel, to marry him, can he?” “No.” “So all jvinter I’ve had my shoulder to the wheel, and,” he added, nervously, “if you’re willing, I can give you the luxuries you are accustomed to.” “But, dear boy,” she laughed delightedly, “I’m just a poor, foolish stenographer who spends her winter savings in two extravagant weeks!”

“I’m so Sorry.”