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Newspaper Page Text
DOES T. R. DRINK? HE POURS IT DOWN; HERE'S HOW
THE STORY USAKED OUT
The. agile, reporter trekked to
ward Oyster Bay in the gloam
ing. . In oqe-hand was a cane. In
the atherhand he grasped a well
sharpened pencil. Concealed in
his high hat wis a dictagraph.
His spy glasses were slung from
his shoulder. He wafs armed- for
A demure maid, not too pretty,
answered, his ring.
"Where is he?"
"At the barn," she whispered.
"At the barn? Ah-h-h!"
By the light of the moon he
walked deftly toward the equine
bungalow. He reconnoitered
carefully.' He peeked through
the window. "Nothing doing. Too
dusty. He approa'ched the1 door.
He dfd not-even awaken the. cat.
He applied his ear to the key
hole. He heard that familiar
voice from'within the sham.
It was die hero of Sanljuan
Hill who spoke. The journalist
knew thevDice. It'was ,a plead
ing voice, this time, and the wocd
"boss" Jet a jgreat lighten on the
"brain of .the journalist. ' -X,
'"Can it be?" he .muttered'
"The Boss ! Is George W. Per
kins here?' Ah-h-hV' J
He opened the door.- Tqe glit
ter of teeth' in the light of a barn
lantern greeted him. The Great
Personage.sat on a-stool, holding
out a wjsp of" hay. A placid cow
stqpd aloof, one foot in a tin pail.
"Come, Boss!" repeated 'Theo
dore. "Curses!" snarled the 'journal
ist. "De-e-lighted," said' Theodore,
when the journalist r had made
himself known. ' , ,(
"Zip-p-p:t," said the milk as' it
squirted into'the tin pail, for 'the
cow had become pbliging.
Ten minutes later JTheodore
and his guest were seated "at the
kitchen table. .Theodore drank
two breakers of milk'' before. he
spoke. . k
"I like rriilk," he said. Some
times I. 'drink ,fiye glasses' for
luncheon.' Other, famous people
flrink milk. There's'SarahiBern
ha'rdt " " "-; J ' ; :
, "And Charley Fairbanks," sid
the journalist r '7 - -
"B-r-r;" shivered --Theodore.
"Anyhow," he continued,' "write
a story about this. It's gaodustuff.
Some of my enemies are saying
Fm antemperate. 11 $ a short and
ugly wpra. l aruiK'oniy-mjiK.