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WEDNESDAY, MAY 3. 1022
J)f £ointer Comes BY A. S. M. HUTCHINSON Copyright, l»«l. A H SI llut< bltieon irnnllnnfd From Y>«tenlay) "1 growled. tit ill reading- Tlt'l probably thinking what he'a going to liave for lunch. Oh, daali, It. do •top Jogging me. Where l* hef' "And then I looker! acroaa. Okl Bah re' Hy Jove, you might have JlUehed im> over with one finger Old Sabre In a tweed ault and a eoft hat, and hla fame leg Muck out atralght, •lid hla okl altrk, and ht* hand* •bout • thousand mllaa deep lu hla pockets. and looking —>ee, my wife ■aid the trua thine when ahe eald how he waa looking Anyone would have taken a second equint at old flabre'a face aa I anw It then taken a second aquint and wondered what ha'd been thru and wliat on earth hie mind eould be on now. Thay oar talnly would. "I knew. I knew; but I tell you thla. 1 could see ha'd bean thru a tough lot mora .and thought a con aklerable number of fathom* deeper. In the month elnce I'd seen him laat. Yea. by Jove. 1 could aee that with out apectarlea. "I went over to him You could pu*he<i him off the Beat with cni fin it r when he aaw me Except that you wouldn't have had any fin ger* worth uking aa fltigera, after he'd a«iuee*c<J your handa aa he equeexed mine. lUith of them And hla flac* Ilka a ahout on a eunny morning. Yaa. ha waa pleeeed I Ilka to think how Jolty plaaaed the old chap waa. "1 took him over to my wife, anil Viy wit* cliiubed *ll over htm. ami w* cluttnl round for t bit. and then I workxt off my wtf* on a bunch of people ww knew and I got old Babre on to a secluded bench and atarted In on him. What on earth waj he dt». Ins down at Bright on. and how mm things* "lis said "Things . . . T Thing* are happening with me. Hapigood Not to in*—with me. Happening pretty fierce and pratty quick. I'm right In the middle of the moat extraordinary, the most sstbun.ltng, ths most am*l tng things. I had to gst away from them for a bit. I simply had to. I came down here for a week-end to get away from them and go on wrestling them out when they weren't right under my eyes. I'm going back tomorrow. Kffle was all right—with her baby. She eras glad I should go—glad for me. I mean. Poor kid. poor kid. Top of her own Ilaery, Hapgood. she's miserable to kith at what she says she's let me [ f»r She's always crying about Crying. She's torn between knowing my house Is the only place where shs can't have her baby, be tween that and seeing what her com ing Into the place has caused. She spend* her time trying to do any little thing she can to make me com fortable. hunta about for any little thing she ran do for me. It's pathetic to me Jumped at this sudden Idea of mine of getting away for a couple of days. Bald It would please her more than anything In the world to know 1 was right sway from It all for a bit. Fussed over me packing up and all that, you know. Pathetic. Frightfully. Look. Just to ahow you bow she hunts about for anything to go for me—eald my eld Straw hat waa much too shabby for Brighton and would 1 gat her eome stuff, or alio acid, and let her clean It up for DM. That sort of little trifle. As a matter of fact shs made stl'h a shocking mass of ths hat that I hardly lUted to wear It. Couldn't hurt her feelings, tho. Chucked It Into ths sea when I got here and bought this one. Make a futtny story for her when I get bcau?k about how ft blew off. That's the sort of life we lead together. Hapgood Sh* al ways trying to do little things for rns and 1 trying to think out little }»kss for her to try and cheer her up. Give you another example. Just when I had brought her the stuff for my hat. M*t ma with. Had I lost anything? Made a mystery of it. Raid I was to gussa. Ouesawl last that It must b* my clgaret case It was. She'd found It lying about and took m* to ahow where she'd put It for aafety—ln th* back of the clock In my room. Bald I was always to look there for any llttl* valuable* I might miss, and wanted me to know how sh* liked to be careful of my things like that. Foasir.it ovsr me, d'you »*' Trying to make It seem w* war* living nor mal. ordinary lives. '"That's th* sort of llf* we lead together. Hapgood—together; but the life I'm caught up In, the things that are happening with me. that I'm right In th* middle of, that I felt I hail to get sway from for a bit— astounding, Hapgood. astounding, •mating . . .' "I'm trying to give you exactly his own words, old man. I want you to get this business Just exactly ss I got It. Old Habre turned to m* wllh that—with that 'astounding, amax- Ing—turned and faced m* and aald: "Hapgood. I'm finding out th* most extraordinary things about thla life as we'v* made It and aa we live It. Hapgood, If I kept forty women In different part* of London and mad- no aecret of It. nothing would be said. People would know I was AOVeHTUBE-S OP- THEr TWINS fer Cliv Rulwt'l' Barton THE DOVE CALLS N*ncy and Nick ha<l *uch ft (food time in Whirligig valley that, a* usual. the time flew and they had no more thought of their errard than I have of the North fttar and. Indeed, I'm not thinking of It at all. They might lie there to thl* very minute If their goloshes hadn't sud denly dropped off wlill* they were riding on the merry-go round. Nancy waa on a wooden camel und Nick waa on a dragon, rtdlng around to the merrlMt rnunk when popl Off dropped the whole four fcMloahee at on<e. "Oh." rrled out Nsncy suddenly. "We'll have to get off right away, Nlckl*. What will the dove think of ua? He'a waiting on the other aide of thia valley to tf.ke ua to King Verdo of the Korsknott*." Nlrk looked guilty. "Ww're dread fill for forgetting, aren't we?" he declared, scrambling off hla dragon aa faat aa he could. "Thla la the seventh valley, hh our JOHrnajr muat Money berk tninrant#*. with -very ■"lt. Laff. the Tailor, 1101 Jrd—Adv 1 ■ - - - Men'* half-cole*, $1 25 Kent white oak leather une/1 Liberty Hhoe Re pair. n**t Liberty thealer.—Adver llatHlent. rather » ithamelaaa lot, my little waya would be on open ■•crrt, but nothing would be ealU 1 ahould be facetved everywhere Hut I'm thought to have brought one woman Into my hoiuw mid I'm b.inned I'm unHpe«k able. Forty, flagrantly. outal.lv, and I'm allll a r«fiv«l member of ao clety. People art aorry for my wife, or pretend to be. but I'm atlll all rtght, a bit of a rake, you know, but a deornt enough chap iigt I take pity on one p«w>r flrl becauee (he cling* to her motherhood altho ahe'a unmarried, and I'm beyond the pale. I'm tmapeakabla Amualng. l»o you ettv Ita' not abeotutety aiti>un4lii|! " HlWllllil, look here It'a thla. Thla l a what l*»a found. You ean do the ahoeklng things. and It can lie known you do the aHodMiig thing* Hut you mustn't be aeen doingthem You can beat your wife, and V ran be known among your frtan4a that you baat your wtfe Hut you muatn't be aeen beating her. You muatn't bant her In the atrvet or tn your nelghbor'a garden. You ean drink, and It can he known you drink; but you muatn't ha aeen drunk " 'Do you aee. Hapgood? t>o you aeaT The conventions are all right, moral. Bound, excellent, admirable, but to aave their own face there'a a blind aide to them, a ahut eye aide. Keep that aide of them and you're all right. They'll let you alone. They'll pretend they don't aae you. Hut come out and atand in front of them and they'll devour you. They'll amaah and grind and devour you, llapgood. They're devouring me. " "That'a where they've got me In their Jaws. Hapgood; and where they've got Fffte In their Jnwa ta i tu»t precisely again on a l>llnd. shut *>.• aide. . . . They're ytgt-.tly based, ftey'r* absolutely just. >ou can't galnaay them, but to *•** their face, again. they're Indomitably blind and deaf to the hldeoua cruelties In I heir application They mean well, They cause the moat frightful suffering, the most frightful Iragxdts*. but they won't look at them, they won't think of them, they won't apeak of them ! tbev mean well . . "Old tUbre put his head In his hands He might have been praying He looked to me sort of physically wrestling with what hs called the Jaws that had got htm and had got her He looked Up at me and he said. 'Hapgnnd. thla ta where IV* got to. This Is where I am. Hapgood. llfe'e all wrong, elupid, cruel. l>lun derlng. but It mean* well. We've shaped It to fit us as ws think we ought to tlve and It meane well. Means well! My (M, Hapgood. the most terrible, the most lamentable self.confession that ears can hear "I meant well." Some frightful blun der committed, some Irreparable harm Inflicted, and that pttemia. heart-broken, heart-breaking, mad dening. Infuriating excuse. "I mean! weU. i meant well Why didn't soma one tell me?" Life meane well. Hap good. It does mean well, it only wants some one to tsll It where It's wrong, where It's blundering, where It's Just missing, and why It's Just missing, all It means to do.' "Wlth that h* went back to all that Muff I told you ha told m* when I was down with him last month— that stuff about th* need for a new revelation suited to men's minds to day, the need fur naw light. 1 can't tall you all that—4t*a not In my Itna. that sort of talk. Hut h« said, hla far* all pink und*r hi* skin, h* aald. 'Hapgood. I'll tsll you a thing. I'va got th* secret. I've got th* key to lb* riddle that's been (nrxxlmg me all my llf*. I've sot th* now revelation in terms good enough for me to un derstand. Light, more light. Her* It la: Ood la—love. Not this, that, nor fh* other that th* fntslllgenc* revolts at. and puts aatde. and goes away, and goes on hungering, hun gering and unsatisfied, nothing Ilk* that: but Just this pl.tln for a child, claar as daylight for grown Intelli gence: Hod I*—love. I.laten to this. Hapgood: "He that dwetleth fn love dwelleth in Ood and Ood In him, for God Is lov*." Kcatasy. Hapgood, ec atasyl It explains everything to me I can reduce all th* mysteii«* to terms of that On* of these days, perhaps one of these days. I'll be j able to write It and tell people.' "I tell you. old man. you ran think what you like about It. but okl Babre. when he waa telling me that. wa» a pretty first-class advert laemnnf for his own revelation He'd found It all light. The look on him was nearer the dlvln* than anything I've ever corns near seeing. It certainly was. "Bo you see that was the morning part of this that I'm tailing you, what I called fh* first part, and It was not too bad He'd been thru, he ; *aa going thru some pretty fierce things, but he was holdlnr Up tinder them. Oh. some pretty flerr* things I haven't told you hnlf fine thing that hit him hard as he c«H|rt bear was that that old pal of his. ►ungua or Fargua, Fargua a* a matter of fact, that old chap fell flyfng and did /il<.—knocked out by pneumonia ape. rial con stabling and thoae dashed 'ramping great daughter* of his I* nearly over." Juat then a I*ll rang, the merry go-round slowed down and 'he Twins jumped to the ground. I'hey looked for the goloahea, but they hnd dis appeared completely Their little (Srewn Hhoea glowed like bright new plants In the apring. "Listen!" aaid Nancy, holding up a finger. "Oki-owmo#' came mournfully ■crom the valley. "Hurry!" aald Nick, taking Nancy'* hand and starting to run. "We ought to lie B*h»m«d of ourselvee, so w<e ought, for keeping the dove wait ing." They were aoon out of tne valley, j and greeting their pat'en' llttla ; friend who had found shelter In a : ro*e tree. "Ah, here you are" he said kind ly, fluttering hla white wings "I wa* l»-u1nnlng to fenr that old Twelve Toe*, the Rorcerer. Nad work «1 some extra strong magic jnd that I would heyer see you ngnln. At laat you are the seven mountain* «nd the seven valleys Now for King Verdo's palace. Follow me, my dear* " And away he flew. (To lie Coiitinuetl) (Copyright, 1»22, by He.ittie Htar) OUR BOARDING HOUSE [wouldn't let poor old Hsbre Into ths hous* to me him Fact. He said It i hurt him worse, made him rsaliae 1 worse what a ban he was up against, | Ifhun anything that'a happened to f hltn. It would. That chap dying and j him too shocking to b« admitted. "They <Ud grant him one squint of j 'his old frlaml. about five minutes. I ' and stood over him Ilk* dragons all 1 th* lime, five of them Csm* to him ;Ona morning and said, as tho they i were speaking to a leper thru hara. ' said, sort of holding thetr noses, 'We have to ask you to come to saa I I'opa The doctor thinks flier* fa' I something i'apa wishes to aay to I you ' "What It was. aparently, was that' 'the old gentlemen had some sort of funny old notion that he was put Into life for a definite purpo** and when iNabre saw him ha-coukl Just whisper |to Mabr* that he was agonised ba- I cause h* wua dying before he'd don* [anything that could poaslbly bo It.: I'oor old Sabrw said It waa too terrl I bl* for him. beeauaa what oould ha • 1 say with that pack Of ,rhn daugh- j |ter* atsndtng over him to saa that ,he didn't contaminate their papa on , his death bad? He said hs could only i hold hia old pal a hand, and had fh* | tear* running down hl» far*, and 'couldn't say a word, and they hustled | him out, sort of holding their nnwsi again, and sort of dlalnfsotlng the' place as they went along. He aatd [to m*. brokenly, -Hapgnnd. 1 f*lt I'd touched bottom. Mjr old friend, you, know.' He said he went again next , j morning. Ilk* s tradesman. Just to i beg for news. They told him. 'Papa 1 has paaaed away.' He asked them, i ltd ho say anything at th* last? Do plana* tail m* Just that.' They said ha suddenly almost sat up and called . out something they rouldnt under stand about 'Ay. ready?" Sabre aafcl ha understood and thanked (lad for i It. He didn't tell me what It meant;j It broke him right up even talking i about It. There waa another thing 'h* mentioned but wouldn't go Into, i j Boms nfjisr great friend, a woman, j whom he said he'd out right off out ; 'of his acquaintance wouldn't an-! !swer her letter*: realised bow the; world waa regarding him and felt hs couldn't trapo** himself on any on* Hs seamed to suffer over that, too." ; 11. "Well, that was the morning, old man. That was the first part, and j you se* how |t went. He was pretty j badly In the depths but hs was hold- j In* on. Ha'd got thla great discov ery of hi*, and the Idea of writing ; about It after hl» History, he snld ; If I'm ever able to take up my Ills- > tory again,' he aald. iladly down as he waa. at least he'd got that and he'd also got to help him th* extrnor ! dlnary. reasonable, reasoning view he I took of fh* whole hti*fnea*' no bitter nea* sgalnst any on*. Ju*t under ; itandlng thalr potnt of view as he ialways has understood fh* other j point of view. Just that and puxxllng 1 over It gll. On the whole, and eon j ! alderlng all things, not too had Not 'too had That was the morning. He j wouldn't come to lunch with us. II" I hadn't liked meeting my wife a* It i waa And of rmirse I could under-j ! stand how ha felt, poor chap. So I ! lleft him. j "I lsft him When I saw him again waa about three o'clock, and I walked right Into the mlddl* of the develop, mcnt that, n* I told you, has pretty j well lat the roof down on him. "I strolled round to his hotel, a j ons-horse sort of plac* off the front. I He was In th* lobby. No on* *l*e 1 there Only a man who'd Juat been I speaking to him and who left him 1 and w*nt out aa I cam* In. "Hnbre had two papers In his hands, i If* waa staring at them and you'd j lia' thought from his face he waa staring nt a ghnat. What d'you OilnV ' they were? Ouess Man alive, fh* chap I'd seen going out had Just served them on him Th«»y were di vorce paper* Th* citation and petl P©l% atadl Faonl—amd Pans By 7M (rwrlfltt, ltll, kr Tlw ImHli Mar) CHAPTER I/XXVIII—"SWEET, SWEET HOME—" When Polly and l'uul h.id finished the Journey to the port of Havre on the littler-than-American tralr. with It* cro**wle* compartment*, the re membrance of tile quaint street where they had lived In Pail* waa a wet bit dimmed. I!y the time they reached the busy Wharf, where Americana began to appear prosperous looking, beauti fully dressed and trim th» month* among foreigner* commenced to seem leas vivid. Penning on the ship's rsll, her shoulder to Paul's, Polly hfegttn hum ming the old soldier song. THE SEATTLE STAR DOINGS OF THE DUFFS FRECKLES AND HIS FRIENDS (100 papers tliat b»M to be »rv»<i personally. Divorce pa(>era. Ilka wife ' had Instituted dlvort*! proceedings • (ilnii him. Naming the Ctrl, Eftli. I "Yea, you con whistle .. . "You run whistle. I couldn't. I had too much to do. ll* waa knocked I out. Htgbt out. 1 (rot him up to hi* room. Triad to (tuff a drink Inlo jhlm. Couldn't, fluffed It Into my. eelf. Two. Wanted them pretty badly. "Well-—f tell you. It waa pretty awful. lie aat on the bed with the jl>apenr In hla band, gibbering. Juat 1 gibbering No other word for It. Waa hla wife mmir Waa ah* craayT Hud ah* gone out of her mind? He to be guilty of a thing Ilk* that? lie oapable of a beaatly thing Ilka that? Hhe to believe, ah* to believe ha waa that? Hla wife? Mabel? Waa It poa aibfe? A vita, hideous. aordld Intrlgu* i with a Klrl employed In hla own [houM? Kffle! Hla wlfa to believe that? An un*tMakaßle, beaatly thing ! IfVo that? He tried to ahow me with | hla finger th* words on th* paper. Ilia finger shaking all over the thing. 'Hapgood, Ifapgood, do you •ee thla Vila, obscene word her*? I I guilty of that? My wife. Mnb«l, i think ma capable of that? Do you see what th*y call me. Hapgood? (What they call m* by Implication, what my wife, Mabel, thlnka I am, what I am to be pointed at and nailed? Adulterer! Adultererl My ,'HkI, my Clod, adulterer! The word j makes me alck. The very word la | like poison In my mouth. And I am to awallow It. It la to be me, me. 'my name, my title, my brand! Adul terer! Adulterer!" "I tell you, old man ... I tell you . . . (Continued Tomorrow) "How'w we (nnn> keep 'em down on the fnrtn After they've men Pareee-e'" IHiul looked into her face with hie boyleh grin. "D'you mean that, for me?" A wttiry shrug wna her answer. "Well, tell' you the truth, Polly- Ann, the exact same thought was at thnt Instant cavorting thru my bean. There's something mighty darn fine about the old world They know life over tlwre. They know what's Im portant and wlint Isn't. "They're ready to take you for what you aru, not for what you BY AHERN Otar. - * I'ane END OK TIIK ItOIIIIKR STORY "At ft rat, whan tha cblld calle«l that dreadful m'smitt In at the open door," tha lady whouaed-to ba-Tota>y conttnuad, "mother waa frightened terribly. Then ahe aat up and called out. 'Walt! Tell roe. child, what killed the children In the woodar " 'Hobberar tha lltt'e n»w« bearer anld In a hoars* whisper and fled on to aprrad the newa. "Hut mother lay back on her pillow with a smile, knowing full well that no robber, nor robtter band would b* foolish enough to try to find anything worth 'rotv blng' among a lot of youngsters out on a picnic. "So ahe lay back and waited. "Meanwhile, not being ax wis* aa mother, and having been atartled all at once, w» were Buf fering all the pain of sbaolut* panlo. "I could fairly feel the breath of pursuing vllllans on my neck as I ran; hadn't I «*en the horrid false fares hanging on the treea? Hadn't I heard what dreadful thlnga they Were doing almost every day? have. They're a bit alow, maybe, but gosh, they do enjtiy lifer "They look facta In the fare, th»y know how to meet realities prac tically, and with bravery. Hut they hslleve In mixing work with pleasure —not tolling like demons till they're RO. and then promising themaelvea a (food time, but going at thinrn In an easier, happier aplrlt, giving each day Ita full quota of work and enjoy ment." I'olly squeezed hla aria sympa tliatlcally. THE OLD HOME TOWN The Duff Radio Hard, Luck, Tag "And the townsfolk heard us coming and they were a 1 moat as frightened as w* were and came running out to m**t un, and pro tect ua from whatever diuigrr had overtaken ua. "We reached the foot of the hill. We I vg»n our tale of breath leas adventure In the grove on the hill top, we told of our plcttlc party and Its rude In'erruptlon; We gasped ifnd we talked all at once—then somebody sul<l: " Tiut where are tne lioys? Thought you said the boys went along?' "Hlonkly we looked around. Pure enough, where were tha boys? Homebody laughed, some grownup body. I mean, not any of us; then we knew. "Those wretched boys had played a trick on us. and now they were up there with the grovn and all the lunches theirs und ours too, all to themselves, and we -we who had planned the picnic - were panting and perspir ing and squirming white the men laughed. "Quietly we turned and trudged off home. And as we went I mumbled to lx»u: " 'Well! That'a what w* get for letting th* l>oys >ro. They always spoil everything." lmmm "What heape and heaps we and they can learn from each other," Was her quiet comment. Yet when they caught their first irllmpae of the American ehore their heart! beat fairly to suffocation with love and pride. Their lai.d. Their splendid, huge, beautiful, modern land land of love and light and life - and home. Their land of promise and fulfillment! New York, aa t<efore. was a awlft dream of splendor and •of white mag-to. The gorgeous hotel, with Its EVERETT TRUE snapping service. Its elegance, Its be wildering" *ui«m -convtnlences; Urt«<l wiiy -a ruinlmwed paueam, Halt mag nificent, tin If rowdy; Fifth uve„ prodigal and arrogant, and the vast Grand Central, transcending Kuro pean palaces; thwse iwaaed them In a sweep of cdnaclousneaa. The dear Sight after all wna the home-studded plains--green hs emer ald IwnnHth lh« radiant sky. Then tlie homely places— There's the old yellow brick high school — The glade by the river where we used to go picnicking—the road past tlra cider mill — Oh, do you remember that PA(7R It BY STANLEY BY ALLMAN, BY BLOSSER BY CONDO night—that delicious nlsht and tliorp, yes, there's the bank—and the station—and— Oh, dearest, Isn't that mother standing there with a new mauve hat, bleaa he. and—lt it Isn't Aunt Sua—ln a checked tatlormade—l'aul, I shall ille!—Have you got the yellow hag 7 And my coat! Here's your camera—l knew you'd forgot It Paul, Paul, Isn't It heuvenly to sea the folks— We'va adopted l*nrls aa our subuihan home, of coursa; It belongs to us now—but this In home—and there—at laati mother sees us! Tbc End.