OCR Interpretation


The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, June 29, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 19

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1914-06-29/ed-1/seq-19/

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dollars from her father's estate.
Lucky Cy!"
John felt misused and very much
abused. He was not tired of sweet,
loyal ilary; he would not "trade"
with Cy Alison if a basket full of dia
monds was thrown into the bargain!
Still, John was in just that mood
wherefthe dull ends of home life look
ed more somber than usual. On the
other hand, the sight of the bejeweled,
brilliant-looking woman who had
once held his affections quite dazzled
him. John wandered down the street
aimlessly, dreaming.
"Oh, say, Mr. Strickland!" sang out
a sudden voice.
"Why, it's Nat, isn't it?" inquired
John, always kindly and cordial in
his greetings and especially so with
children.
It was a child, a little fellow of
about ten, a cripple, wheeling himself
across the walk towards John in his
invalid chair, who accosted him.
"See here," said little Nat, "I found
this just now."
He extended a silver-netted purse
and John stared at it and awaited
an explanation.
"Where did you get it, Nat?" he in
quired. "In the road. It was right after an
auto went by."
"Whose?"
"The Alisons'."
'"Oh, indeed," murmured John, and
he now took the dainty trifle in his
hand, glanced over it curiously and
noted a monogram on.the clasp.
"Yes," he said, "here's an 'A' and
an 'M.' It must have been dropped
from the machine by Mrs. Allison."
"Oh, sure it was," declared Nat.
See fiere, I can't get around very fast
or far, you know. Would you mind
taking it to the owner for me?"
, -"H'm!" hesitated John. Then, act
ing,, on a quick impulse, he added:
"Yes, 111 do .that, Ned."
So John took the silver purse, plac
ed it in his pocket and started" down
the street His color had heightened.
He tried hard to believe that he was
sacrificing his time to do.a good deed.
xii xeauiy, as lie ocucu; miew, uc
was catering to an irresistible impulse
to act upon a favorable excuse for
seeing again the lady of his thoughts.
John reached the rather imposing
home of the Alison's. There was quite
a flutter of his nerves as he ascended
the steps. He touched the bell, not
knowing that it was out of order. He
got tired of waiting for a response
to his summons and sank into a porch
chair. Then he started and stared
through an open front window. A de
cidedly waspish yoice had called out
sharply:
"Cy!"
It was Mrs. Alison calling to her
husband. She was plainly visible to
John in the room beyond 'the window.
"I'm coming," answered a voice
from somewhere upstairs jn the
house.
"Make haste, then, stupid!" was
ungraciously retorted, the shrewish
accents scarce according with, the
dulcet vocalism Mrs. Alison employed
when assuming "company manners."
Slowly, then, John Strickland arose
to his feet. He could not help but note
Mrs. Alison standing before a mirror.
He was startled, almost shocked. The
lady was heated and dusty after her
automobile ride. She rubbed her face
with a handkerchief and it seemed to
take away its false youthful bloom.
She Temoved the upper set of teeth
that had so remindedTohn of pearls.
Then she removed some of her hair.
The amazed John thought of scare
crows. He was embarrassed; he was
amazed.
Cy came into the room.
"What d'ye want?" he Inquired
crossly.
"That money 1 let you have. You
didn't use only a small part of it."
"I'd like to carry a little once in a
while," growled Cy.
"Oh, yes, to distribute among those
worthless relatives of yours!" sneer
ed the model Myra. "I'll give them
their walking papers if any of that
cheap rabble show their faces about)
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