The Alvin Sun. (Alvin, Tex.), Vol. 23, No. 6, Ed. 1 Friday, September 5, 1913 Page: 3 of 8
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SYNOPSIS.
Give
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You’re all broke
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She was hardly conacious
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Pr-'- Bernice, hearing the door shut,
gave
••What*
Wore
You
Thia State,” He Said
Down
to
«!
i
“you’ve
□ess relations.
partners.”
The old
laugh.
Berny Stood Waiting, Throbbing From
Head to Foot With Excitement.
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volurtarily left,
fore a hotary If you want,
true.
There
It's as
It’s simply an ad-
mornlng. In you pop, and you’re all
What’s the
to articulate, and then dissolved Into
another flood.
The old man, high in his swivel
chair, sat with his bands in his pock-
ets, his lips pursed and his eyes on
the floor. Once or twice he whirled
the chair slightly from one side to the
other. Afte” a pause of some min-
utes he said:
’ Are you prepared to agree to any-
thing Mrs. Ryan and J demanded?”
After the last outbreak she had
Here, this | completely sbanuoned herself to the
i|i -/
gT? I !■ I. -
pt<
years
recognize*
i to go to
nt
IL---*
pressed with the conviction that she
was held in a tremor of febrile excite-
ment. Her voice had an under note
of vibration In it. like the voice of
one who breathes quickly. The orchid
on her breast trembled with the trem-
bling of her frame
“Look here.” he said quietly, "I
want to understand this thing. What’s
made you change your mind so sud-
denly? A few days ago you were all
up on fiddle-strings at the suggestion
of taking that money.
/ / Author P5ONEER
. 1 /"TOMORROWS TANGLE,"eke.
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lift dV
Rose
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and Is
rs of off<
hit in vai
he mu;
mowledu-
ers Berny l^v.-
aylng («
Gene wn
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h
IlhistnticDS^-r
DOM.J.LAyiN
trunks Af breakfast the Chinaman,
an oblique, observant eye on her,
asked her what he should prepare for
lunch Conscious that if she told
him she would not be back he ml.^ht
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cash the check. Her sole fear w.ta
that Cannon, as soon as she was gone,
might have regretted his action ai d
telephoned from his office to stop the
payment on It. She knew that once
the money was hers be would n it
make any attempt to get it back. Hie
own reputation and that of his daugh-
ter were too inextricably bound up
with the transaction for him to daie
to apprehend or punish Berny for her
deception.
Her heart gave a wild leap as aba
saw the teller returning, and then
pause behind the netting of his golden
cage while he counted out the bill».
She tried to speak lightly to him as
he laid them one by one on the glass
slab. P -
what she said; all she realised
that the crisp roll of paper in her
Angers was her possession. If not of
great fortune, at least of something
to stand between her and the world.
When she left the bank she walked
forward slowly, the excitement which
had carried her on to this point hav-
ing suddenly left her feeling weak
and tired. She entered the railway
office and bought her ticket for New
York for that evening’s train. Thea
once more emerging into the sun-
shine she directed her sters to thd
car which would take her to her sis-
ters. She had decided to spend he?
last day in San Francisco with them.
As the car whisked her up the hills
she carefully pondered on how much
she would tell them, where truth was
advisable and where Action would
serve a better purpose.
(TO BE CONTINUED )
ceedings. though he did not see Just
bow she could be deceiving him.
"Walt till next year,” he said.
“When I see the dl.orce papers I’ll
feel a lot surer of the partnership ”
She knapped the clasp of her purse,
laughing and moving to the door. She
was wild to get away, to escape from
the dark room that held such unpleas-
ant memories, and the old man. wtose
steely penetrating eye. fastened on
her. was full of unsatisfled query.
"Well, so long!” she cried opening
the door. “Next time we meet it will
be more sociable. I hope. We really
ought to be old friends by this time.”
She hardly knew what she Was say-
ing, but she laughed with a natural
gaiety, and in the doorway turned
and bow^d her jaunty good-bys to
him. He stood back and nodded good-
humoredly at her. bis face showing
I mast
If you
now I’ll leave for
i i-
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( • i
a quarter past nine
when she emerged from the flat.
took the down-town car and twenty
minutes later was mounting the steps
to Bill Cannon’s office. She had been
motionless and rigidly preoccupied on
the car, but, as she approached the
office, a change was visible in her
gait and mien She moved with a
light, perky assurance, a motion as
of a delicate, triumphant buoyancy
seeming to impart itself to her whole
body from her shoulders to her feet.
A slight, mild smile settled on her
lipa, suggesting gaiety tempered with
good humor. Her eye was charged
with the same expression rendered
more piquant by a gleam—the merest
suggestion-—of coquettish challenge.
The Bonanza King was already in
his office. The same obsequious clerk
who had shown her In on a former oc-
casion took her card In to the inner
sanctum where the great man, even
at this early hour, was shut away
with the business which occupied his
crowded days. In a moment the
young man returned smiling and quite
as murmurously polite as he had been
on her former visit, and Berny was
once again ushered Into the presence
of the enemy.
The old man bad read the name on
the card with a lowering glance. His
command to admit the visitor had
been hardly more than an inartculate
growl which the well-trained clerk
understood as those about deaf mutes
can read their ha f-made signs. Can-
non was not entirely surprised at her
reappearance, and mingled feelings
stirred In him as he turned his swivel
chair away from the table, and sat
hunched In it, his elbows on its arms,
his hands clasped over his stomach.
She came in with an effect of dash,
confidence, and brilliancy that aston-
ished him. He had expected her al-
most to sidle in in obvious, guilty
fear of him, her resistance broken,
humbly coming to sue for the money.
Instead, a rustling scented apparition
appeared in the doorwa?, more gra-
cious. handsome and smiling than he
had ever thought she cou’d be. She
stood for a moment, as If waiting for
his Invitation to enter, the whole ef-
fect of her rich costume, her feverish-
ly high coloring, and her debonair
and self-confident demeanor, surpris-
ing him into silence. A long white
feather on her hat made a back-
ground for her darkly flushed face and
auburn hair. The~e were some ame-
thysts round her neck, their purple
lights harmonizing richly with the
superb flower pirn ed on her breast.
Her eyes looked very black, laughing,
and provocative through her spotted
veil.
"Well,” she said in a gay voice,
"here 1 am again! Is it a surprise?"
She advanced into the room, and
the old man, aln ost unconsciously,
rose from his chair
"Yes. sort of," h^ said, dryly.
She stopped by he desk, looked at
him sidewise, and said:
"Do we shake hands?"
His glance on her was hard and
cold. Berny met I: and could not re-
strain a sinking o' the courage that
was her most admirable characteristic
and that she had screwed far past its
ordinary sticking-point that morning.
She sank down it to the same arm-
chair that she had occupied on her
former visit and 3ald. with a little
languid effect of Indifference:
“Oh. well, never mind. We don’t
have to waste t me being polite.
That’s one of the most convenient
things about our Interview. We just
say what we realty think and there’s
no need bothering about humbug.”
"So glad to hear It," said the old
man gave a short, dry
He could not rid bis mind of
suspicion •» of her and the whole pro-
ceedings. though he did not sen fust
voice;
I can’t fight any longer.
Give me some money and let me go.
I’m beaten ’’
She lowered her head still farther
and burst Into tears So unexpected
were they that she had no prepara-
tions for them. Her handkerchief was
In the bead purse that hung on her
wrist, and, blinded by tears, she could
not find the clasp Her fumbling
hand tried for a possibly reserve sup-
ply In her belt, and then in despair
went up tc her face and lifted her
veil trying to brush away the falling
drops. The Bonanza King stared at
her amazed, as much surprised as If
he had seen a man weep. Finally he
felt In his own pocket, produced a
crisply-laundered square of white
linen and handed it to her, observ-
ing soothingly:
"Here, take mine,
up, aren’t you?"
She seized his offering and mopped
her cheeks with it. sniffing and gasp-
ing. while he watched her in genuine
solicitude
"What’s
state?
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■ man with bis most Ironical air. “Sup
| pose then you let me know
■ j’ou’ve come down to say.”
| "Can’t you guess?" she answered,
with an expression that was almost
I one of flirtatious interrogation.
“Nup,” he arswered, looking steadi-
ly at her. “I have to have it said in
that plain style with no politeness
that you say is the way we always
talk."
"All right.” the answered briskly.
Here it is as plain as A B C. I’ve
decided to accept your offer and take
the money."
She looked up at him, smiling gal-
lantly. But as her eye caught his her
smile, try as she would to keep it,
died. He suddenly realized that she
was extremely nervous, that her lips
were dry. and the hand she put up
to adjust her veil, and thus hide her
Intrac able mouth, was shaking. The
adininition he had of late felt tor her
insole it fearlessness increased, also
he beran to feel that now. at last, he
was rising to the position of master
of the situatlor. He leaned back In
the swivel chair and glowered at her.
"Yo i know," ie said slowly, "you’ve
a gall that beats anything I’ve ever
seen. Two days ago you busted this
business higher than a kite by stop-
ping my daughter on the public street
and telling her the whole story. You
did the one thing you knew I’d never
forgive; and you ended the affair,
hammered the nails in its coffin and
burled it Now you come flourishing
Into my office as if nothing had hap-
pened and say vouTI take the money.
It beats me hew you’ve got the nerve
to dare to show your face In here.”
Berny listened with the hand hold-
ing the veil pressed against her
mouth and her eyes staring over it.
"It’s, all straight enough," she burst
out. "what you say about telling your
daughter. ! did it ami I was crazy.
I’ll admit that. But you’ll have to
admit on your side that It was pretty
rough the way I was treated here,
ordered out like a peddler. I was
sore, and It was you that made mo so.
And I’ll not deny that I wanted to
hit you back Eut you Drought it on
yourself. And, anyway, what does it
matter if I go? Maybe your daugh-
ter’s mad and disgusted now, but
women don’t stay that way for ever.
If I get out, drop out of sight, the way
I intend to do. give Dominick his free-
dom, isn’t she going to forget all
about what I said? Wouldn’t any
woman?”
The Bonanza King made no answer.
He had no Intention of talking with
this objectionable woman about his
daughter. But in his heart hope
sprang at the words. They were an
echo of his own desires and opinions.
If this woman took the money and
went, would not Rose, in the course
of ,-lne, relent in her attitude of Iron
man
Could any woman hold
Indelicate.
Washington’s cosmopolitan society
contains many members whose dol-
lars came too late to supply the ad
vantages of early education. An illus-
tration of this occurred last winter,
at a dance given by one of the cap-
ital's most opulent dowagers. The
lady’s debutante daughter appeared in
the ball room in an ultra decollete
gown.
"Isn’t it rather imprudent for your
daughter to wear so low a gown on so
cold a night?” remarked a "catty"
young matron. “She’s quite delicate,
Isn’t she?”
"Mercy, no!" exclaimed the mother
of the fair bud. "She’s one of the
most indelicate girls you ever saw "
"Yes; I observe she’s dancing the
grizzly bear.” said the young matroi
with incisive sweetness.
send one to see me off.
husband for good, for ever,
live here any longer
money and let me go.”
"I don’t see that I’m going to have
any security that you’re going to car-
ry out the whole plan. How do I
know that you’re not going to New
York to have a good time and then,
when you’ve spent the money, come
back here?”
She sat up and tent a despairing
look about the room as If In a wild
search for something that would con-
vince him of her sincerity.
“I swear, I promise." she cried with
almost frantic emphasis, "that I’ll
never come back. I’m going for good
and I’m going tc set Dominick free.
Oh. do believe me. Please. I’m tell-
ing the truth.”
He was Impressed by her manrer,
as he had been by her tears. Some-
thing undoubtedly had happened
which had suddenly caused her to
change her mind and decide to leave
her husband. He did not think tha: it
was what she had told him. Her ex-
citement, her overwrought condition
suggested a cause less gradual, more
like a shock. He ran over tn his
mind the advantages of giving her the
money. Nothing would be jeopardized
by it. It would simply be an advance
made on the sum they had agreed
upon.
"Fifty thousand's too much." be
said slowly. “But I’ll be square to
you and I’ll split th< difference and
give you twenty five. Eli give you the
puzzlement
smile.
Once in the street her deme? nor
again changed. Her step became
sharp and quick, her expression k jen-
iy absorbed and concentrated A
clock showed her that it was ne irly
half past ten, and she walked, with a
speed that was as rapid a mode of
progression as It could be without
attracting attention, to the great bank
on which the check was drawn On
the way down on the car she had
thought out all her movements, just
what she would do. and where she
would go. Her mind was as clear, her
movements as systematic as thoigtk
she were moved by mechanism.
She ran up the steps to the bank
and presented the check at the pacing
teller’s window.
"In one-thousand dollar bills, h
please." she said, trying not to spaak
breathlessly, "all but five hundred,
and you can give me that in oneTun-
dreds.”
The man knew her, made seme
vaguely polite remark, and took the
slip of naper back into unseen regie ns.
Berny stood waiting, throbbing fiom
head to foot with excitement,
was not afraid they would refuse to
wore you down to this
he said. "You’re the nerviest
woman I ever saw .”
"It’s —it’s — all this thing,” she an-
swered in a stifled voice. "I’m just
worn out. ! haven’t slept for nights"
—a memory of those miserable nights
of perturbation and uncertainty swept
over her and submerged her in a wave
of self-pity. The tears gushed out
again, and she held the old man’s
large handkerchief against her eyes,
uttering small, sobbing noises, sunk
In abandoned despondence tn the hol-
low of the chair.
The Bonanza King was moved. The
facile tears of women did not affect
him, but the tears of this bold, hard,
unbreakable creature, whom he had
regarded only as an antagonist to be
vanquished, stirred him to a sort of
abashed sympathy. There was some-
thing singularly pathetic about the
completeness of her breakdown She,
who had l»een so audacious an adver-
sary, now in all her crumpled finery
weeping into his handkerchief, was
so entirely and utterly a feeble,
crushable thing.
"Come, brace up," he said cheer-
ingly. "We can’t do any talking while
you're acting this way. What’s the
proposition again?'’
“I want some money and I want to
go.” She raised her head and low-
ered the handkerchief, speaking with
a strained throaty Insistence like a
child. “I can’t live here any more. I
can’t bear it. It would give a prize
fighter nervous prostration. I can’t
bear it.” Her voice grew small and
high. "Real:/ I can’t." she managed
41
of a tremble to get it.
meaning of it?”
“I can't stand It any more." she
“When you said I couldn’t the
other day. that I’d break down, you
were right. I can’t stand It, Nobody
could. l".’s broken me to pieces. I
want to get away from it all. I want
to go somewhere where I’m at peace,
where the people don't hate me and
hound me—"
Her voice suddenly grew hoarse and
she stopped He looked at her in
surprise Sb© bent her face down,
biting her under lip. and piAed tremu-'
lously at the leaves of the
orchid as if arranging them.
"You’ve beaten me," she said In
suddenly strangled
beaten me
become alarmed at the general de-
sertion and demand his wages, she
ordered an even more elaborate menu
than usual, telling him she would
bring home a 'Fiend.
She breakfasted in her wrapper and
after the meu! finished her toilet with
the extremes solicitude. Never had
she taken more pains with herself.
Though anxie:y and strain had
thinned and sharpened her. the fever
of excitement which burnt in her tem-
porarily repaired thes« ravages. Her
eyes were brilliant without artificial
aid; her cheeks a hot dry crimson
that needed no rouge The innate
practicality of aer character asserted
itself even In this harassed hour.
I«ast night she had put the purp’e
orchid tn a glass of water on the bu-
Now, as she pinned It on her
breast, she corgra tula ted herself for
her foresight, the pale lavender petals
of the rare blossom toning altogether
harmoniously with her dress of dark
purple cloth.
Before she left the room she locked
the trunks and left beside them a
dress suit-case packed for a journey.
Standing in the doorway she took a
hurried look about the apartment—a
last, farewell survey, not of sentiment
but of investigation, to see if she had
forgotten anything. A silver pho-
tograph frame set In rhinestones
caught her eye and she went back
and took it up weighing it uncertain-
ly in her hand. Some of the rhine-
stones had fallen out. and she finally
decided it was not worth while open-
ing the trunks to put In such a dam-
aged article.
It was only
disapproval, and smile on the
she loved?
out for ever in such a position?
"Sc-e here.” Berny went out, “I’ll
leave a statement. I’ll put in in your
handu that I changed my mind and
I’ll draw H up be-
And It's
She needn’t think that I’m be-
ing forced out to make a place for
her. I’m glad to go.”
Sh-3 had leaned nearer to him from
the chair, one finger tapping the cor-
ner of the desk to emphasize her
words. Scrutinizing her as she spoke,
he became more than
hysterical condition that was beyond
her control. Now she made an effort
to i ecover herself, sat up. swallow ng
and gasping, while she .viped her
eyes.
“I’m ready to do It all,” she sniffed,
"only—only—” she paused on the
verge of another collapse, suppressed
It, and said with some show of re-
turning animation, ’only I must have
some money now—a guarantee.”
"Oh.” he said with the descend ng
note of comprehension. "As I remem-
ber. we agreed to pay you seven thou-
sand dollars for the first year, the
year of desertion.”
She lowered the hanakerchlef en-
tirely, presenting to him a disfigured
face, all its good looks gone, but show-
ing distinct signs of attention.
"I don’t want the seven thousand.
I’ll waive it. I want a sum down, a
guarantee, an advance. You offered me
at first fifty thousand dollars.
me that down and I’il go this after-
noon."
"That vaan’C our original arrange-
ment." he said to gain time.
"Deduct it from the rest,
have it. I can’t go without It.
give me the check
New York tonight."
Her reviving interest and force
seemed to have quenched the sources
of her tears as suddenly as her ex
hausted nerves had made them flow.
But her disfigured face, her fig ire
which seemed to have shrunken in Its
fine clothes, were extremely pathetic.
"If you don't trust me send one of
your clerks with me to buy my ticket,
I’ve left my
I erm t
Give me the
CHAPTER XXI—-Continuer.
"Dor’t go to your mother’s," she
cried, following him up the hall “for
to-night, Dominick, please. And don't
tell her. I beg, I pray of you, don't
tell her till tomorrow.”
Her manner was so pleading, so
Imploringly insistent, ;hat he tvrned
and looked somberly at her. She was
evidently deeply In earnest, h>r face
lined with anxiety.
"This is the last thing I’ll ever ask
V of you I know I’ve got no right to
ask anything, hut you’re gene’ous,
you’ve been kind to me in the past,
and it’ll not cost you much to be kind
just once again. Go to a hotel, or the
club, or anywhere you like, but not
to your mother’s and don’t tell her till
to-morrow afternoon.”
He stared at her without speaking,
wishing she would be silent and leave
him.
"I’ll not trouble you after to-mor-
row. i’ll go. I’ll get out. You’ll rever
be bothered by me any more.”
“All right.” he said, ”1’11 go to the
rlub. Let me alone, that’s all, and
let me go.”
"And—and,’’ she persisted. ’you
won't tell her till tomorrow, tomorrow
afternoon?”
He had entered the parlor in which
the Chinaman had lit the lanxps, and
opening the desk began hunting for
his papers. To her last words he return-
ed no answer, and she crept in after
him and stood in the doorway, leaning
against the woodwork of the door-
frame.
"You won’t tell her till to-morrow—
to-morrow, say. after three?"
He found the letters and drew t’lem
out of their pigeonhole.
"AB right,” he almost shouted. “1
won’t tell her. but, for God’s sake,
leave me alone and let me go. If you
keep on following me round this way
I won’t answer for what I’ll do.”
“You promise then," she said, 1g
noring his heat “You promise you’ll
not tel! her till after three?"
He turned from the desk, gave her
a look of restrained passion, and said,
“I promise.” then passed by her as
she stood in the doorws.y and walked
to the stair head. Here his vadse
stood, and snatching it up he ran
down the stairs a^nd out of the house
, re-
turned to her loom and went on with
the work of sorting her wardrobe and
packing her trunks. She did it de-
liberately and carefully, looking ever
each garment, and folding the choicer
articles between sheets of tissue pa-
per. At midnight she had not yet
finished and under the blaze of the
gases, looking very tired, she went on
smoothing skirts and pinching up the
lace on bodices as she laid them ten-
derly on the trays that stood on the
bed. the table, and the sofa. The
night was far spent before everything
was arranged to her satisfaction .And
she went to bed.
She was up betimes in the mern-
ing. Eight o’clock had not struck
when she was making a last tour of
the parlor, picking up small articles
of silver ami glass that she crowded
t «down into cracks in the tightly-packed
eRKJIMENSCHnJWI
X iUffGER.MJXNE BONNER^
Z ' / I Autiore/'THB P5ONEER
Johnson on Melancholy.
Talking of constitutional
choly. he observed: “A man so af
fileted, si", must divert distressing
thoughts, aud not combat with them.’
Boswell—‘ May not he think them
down, sir?” Johnson—“No, sir. Tc
attempt to think them down is mad
ness. He should have a lamp con
stantly burning in his bedchamber
during the night and. if wakefully dis
turbed. should take a book and read
and compose himself to rest. To have
the management of the mind is a
great art. and it may be attained in a
considerable degree by experience and
habitual exercise.” Boswell—“Should
not he provide amusements for him-
self? Would it not, for instance, be
right for him to take a course of
chemistry?” Johnson—“Let him take
a course of chemistry, or a course of
rope dancing, or a course of anything
to which be is Inclined at the time.
Let him contrive to have as many re-
treats for his mind as he can, as
many things to which it can fly from
itself.”- Boswell (Life of Johnson).
che£k now and you can take It anl go
to-night." v.
She shook her head obstinately.
"It won’t do,” she said "What dif-
ference does it make to you whether
you give it to me now or next year?
I’ll give you a receipt for it.
won’t be any trouble about It.
broad as It’s long.
vanee on the main sum.”
He looked moodily at her and then
down. Her demand seemed reason-
able enough, but he distrusted her.
"If you don’t believe me,” she in
slsted. “send out that clerk of yours
to buy my ticket to New York. Tell
him to go up to the flat and he’ll see
my trunks all packed and ready. I
tell you you’ve beaten me. You and
Mrs. Ryan are one too many for me.”
He again looked at her. his Ips
pressed together, his eye coldly con-
sidering.
"I’ll give you thirty thousand lol-
lars and It’s understood that you’re
to leave the city tonight.”
She demurred, but with less show
of vigor, and, for a space, they hag-
gled over the sum till they finally
agreed upon thirty-five thousand iol-
lars.
As the old man drew the check she
watched him with avid eagerness, re-
straining by force the hand that trem-
bled in its anxiety to become pos-
sessed of the slip of paper. He no-
ticed. as she bent over the desk to
sign the receipt, that her fingers shook
so they could hardly direct the pen.
She remarked it herself, setting it
down to her upset nerves, and laugh-
ing at the sprawling signature.
With the check in her hand she
rose, something of the airy buoyancy
of demeanor that had marked her on
her entrance returning to her.
"Well,” she said, opening her purse,
"this is the real beginning of our bust-
I feel as if we were
Bill Canncn. the bonanza Klug, and hi»
daughter, Rok«, who had passed ap Mrs.
<Jorneltua Ryan's ball at San Francisco to
ac«ompary her father, arrive at Antelope.
Dominick Ryan calls on hts mo'-her to
beg a ball invitation for his wife and Is
refused. The determined old lady
to recognize her daughter-in-law
inick had been trapped Into a man
with Bernice Iverson, a stenor —
several years hia senior. She squar. .« .
sno ne j- • *- — -
he sit,
are s
Ryar. .. ____
MCiOUS iCMli
hotel. Ante!
Cannon nurses
Two weeks later Ben_____ _________ -_ _
paptt where hueband is and writes letter
trying to smooth over difficulties between
them. Dominick at last is able to Join
fellow snowbound priaor ers in ho‘e! par-
lor. He loses temper over talk of Buford,
an actor. After three weeks, end if Im-
prisonment is seen. Telegrams ar d mall
arrive Dominick gets letter from wife.
Tells Rose he doesn’t lo\ e wife xn-i never
did. Stormbound people begin t • depart.
Rose and Dominick embrace, father sees
them and demands an explanation. Rose’s
brother Gene Is made manager of ranch,
and Is tu get it if he stays sober a year.
Cannon expresses sympathy for Domi-
nick's position In talk with Rose. Domi-
nick returns home. Berny exerts herself
to p ease him, but he Is indifferent *?an-
nvn calls on Mrs. Ryan. They llscuss
Dominick's marriage dlfticultles. and Can-
non suggests buying off Berny. Dominick
goes to park on Sunday with Berny and
family, sees Miss Cannon, b ws to her
and starts uneasiness in Berny. In Mrs.
Ryan's name Cannon offers Berny lifl.OOO
to leave her t isband and permit divorce.
She refuses. 1/omlnlck secx Rose Cor-
nelia Ryan engaged to Jack Duffy Can-
non offers Berny flOO.OOC and Is turned
down. Berny tells sisters of offer. Bu-
ford. the actor, makes a hit in vaudeville.
Rose tells Dominick that he must stick
to wife, and first time acknowledges that
she loves him. Cannon offers Berny |3<A-
which- she refuses, saying Cannon
wants PcmlnJfk for Ros--. Gene w ns the
ranch Berny accuses Rose of trying to
steal 'ier husband and tells her of he of-
fered bribe. Rose tells father what she
learn-d about the attempt to bribe Berry
and declares that she w »uld never marry
Dominick, should he ever be divorced. Ex-
acts prpmise from father to let Berny
alon»*. Stranger sees Berny in restaurant,
apparently recognizes her. and follows
her home. The stranger who is Buford,
the actor, calls on Dominick Declares
that he married Berny secretly some
before Berny comes in and he rt
her Dominick packs belongings
mother.
—____..fve
ran calls on hts r
-ivhation for his wtL_._____
The determined old lady refuses
>ize her daughter-in-law Dom-
,3 been trapped Into a marriage
Bernice Iverson, a stenographer,
years hts senior. She squar. ters Ids
they have frequent quarr-ls. and
•dips away. Cannon and his daughter
» snowed In at Antelope. Dominick
■an is rescued from the storm tn uncon-
litton and brought tc Antelope
dope Is cut off by storm. Rose
ts Domini ?k back to life,
iter Bernice discovers In a
—• * jg and
- difficulties l-etw<
last is able to
Isor ers In hn el
talk of Bui
•eks. end
tran-.s ar
’I US I
mh
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Bailey, Ammo. The Alvin Sun. (Alvin, Tex.), Vol. 23, No. 6, Ed. 1 Friday, September 5, 1913, newspaper, September 5, 1913; Alvin, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth1249670/m1/3/: accessed July 10, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Alvin Community College.