The Cumby Rustler. (Cumby, Tex.), Vol. 23, No. 25, Ed. 1 Friday, September 18, 1914 Page: 3 of 8
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THE CUMBY RUSTLER
r
Gypsies and artists, society folk,
reckless Bohemians, bold conspira-
tors and a performing bear unite
to keep this story pacing down
the road to Arcady. From the
care-free life of wandering gyp-
sies along the highway you are
carried to the strangest, gayest
spot in Gotham’s fascinating Bo-
hemia.
CHAPTER I.
J
Of Introductions.
"You see, Mr. Jones, so many people
are Introduced, who never really meet,”
said Pedro, “that it seems a pity those
who could meet have to wait for an
introduction; eh?”
Mr. Jones stopped licking his front
Impossible Boy
—the bear did, that is. In another in-
stant that dreadful man would have
had my bag. Not that I would have
f
i
It
■
she added a trifle apologeti-
cally, “but I have registered letters
in it for my father. I have just come
from the post office, and if they had
been lost . . . but, perhaps, you
(learned in Paris), to the accompani-
ment of uproarious applause; and the
harvest was rich, thrown clinking into
( the apron of Old Nita, one of the little cared so much about the^ money^y°JI
paws, and raised his head, the tip of j troupe to which he belonged. Ah I | know,
him nose twitching attentively. For those were the gay nights!
several moments he looked at Pedro I Past the last few months his
with an unwavering stare, and then, thoughts flew back to journeyings far
as though suddenly remembering what I wide: white roads of Lorraine, a
he had been about, resumed the lava- theatrical little village near Naples, do not understand English?”
torial process. It might be mentioned where Mr. Jones had worsted a rival "Oh, yes!” said Pedro, taking his
In passing that Mr. Jones was a small ln combat for honors on a market day; eyes from her slender throat and
brown hear, fat, young and intelligent Holland, where the bear had stolen flashing a brilliant smile at her. ^ Oh,
Pedro rolled over in the dried yel- the little wooden shoe from the tulip- yes, indeed, I understand you!”
low grass, luxuriating in its warmth, Bemng girl, and where they met the | “Then please let me thank you
and in the poignant odor of autumn I gigantic Beau-Jean, and he, with his
foliage turned to flame by long ab-1 wife, Guneviere, and the great, grizzly
sorption of the summer sun. To the Koko had joined them. That made a
youth lying in the stubby grass life] company of six, for already there was
seemed just now to hold all too many | riCO( bis bear and bis Anna, and
possibilities, and be was filled with a Nita—that wicked Old Nita, who
sort of self-pity, because he could not danced the "coquette” herself when
grasp them all. they, bears and all, went late one
Although it was only mid-afternoon night to the B&l Bodln in Montmartre
(Copyright by Bobbs-Merrill CoJ
be busy nursing the wounded paw of
their animal. At Bight and smell of
his familiars Mr. Jonee trotted up,
eagerly sniffing as he came. Old Nita
aroused herself at his approach.
Pedro, you have let him loose
again, oh, careless one!” she cried;
some day he will betray you and
be off! or, worse yet, stolen.”
Cross Old Nita!” replied Pedro,
stepping Into the lighted circle and
emiling at her. “He Is too fond of
me to run away—aren’t you, old fel-
“I do not know that, either,” re-
sponded Beau-Jean.
• ••••••
Next morning the eight set out to-
gether for the city. Whatever strange
undertaking Pedro was considering,
they would all go along and assist if
possible. And so, without any idea
save that of action, they set forth, de-
termined though indefinite.
The coppers of yesterday were all
expended for breakfast, and the first
step toward the beginning of a day
said she, her Interest in him growing
every moment.
“But there is nothing for which I
may receive thanks!” he protested.
Actually, she seemed to consider the en in a few pesetas all day!
bear's introduction sufficient. Fum- “You know very well. Aged One,
blingly he removed his wide, soft hat responded Pedro, “that you take
and clasped it upon his heart with* as much alone as with me, or
both hande. How she stared I Wait- j nearly. And as for going off!
low, eh? What s to eat? he inquired, ^eingr accomplished, they betook them-
stooping over the kettle. Greens! Is Beiyes to the railroad track and walked
that all?” ^ beside It. But noon came and passed,
There la rye bread a single loaf, Hn^ still no granite towers loomed be-
responded Nita. “Thanks to your go- jore their expectant eyes. Finally, to
ing off by yourself, we have only tak-1 regt themselves, they turned from the
wearying, shining vista of rails, and
stolen ftway from Be»- faw «or him to .peak again, ah. gave Well, I have aom.thlng to tell yon but
Jean, Rico and the others, in order with her shapeless old mouth a-smil- her chin a tilt which accentuated that all must hear.^ Let us gather together
to fight out the battle of an impor- heavenly line. Involuntarily he pic- first, and eat.”
tant decision in privacy. But now Tramp steamers! The smell of tured drapery behind it, his artist’s So far the conversation had been ln
•w ha was alone with his problem them came sharply across the autumn soul longing to depict it Like a Ma* Spanish, the native tongue of these
donna. two. Now, as the conversation be-
“It should be blue!” he said aloud ln came general, they fell into a patois
a queer, choked voice. I English, the language of the road.
id bin bear he found himself afraid j wind. Weeks of motion and of stench,
of the former, and to put off the evil J and then at last the dying of the en-
jsofflent when h~ must think ln good I gine-throb, the crowding and the jos-
oarnest he talk to the animal. The tling, and the great rush out upon the
lad -reached out a slim, brown hand shore of some new land. On such a
and took up one of the newly laved J voyage it was that Carlos and Herma-
nla had joined them, bringing a cin-
“How do you do, Mr. Jones?" said I namon bear,
lie solemnly. "I am delighted to meetn where had not these eight been—
you!—That’s how they do it, eh? Now, what roads they had traveled together
1 call it silly that some one has to say | under sun and moon!
“What did you say?” asked the girl sometimes slipping into French, some-
eharm before two others are permit-
to make an inquiry after the
Ith! What do you think, Mr.
Jones r*
The bear gave a little grunt and
’thrust his nose into the boy’s palm.
"Ajil I knew you would agree,” ex-
claimed Pedro. He gave the crea-
ear an affectionate tweak find
spread his slender length upon
ground again.
This hoet of memories Pedro felt ln
tfifeir essence, in a single breath, as
it were, bereft of detail save for some
picture—of a small incident or two,
trivial, but never to be forgot. The
heart of that past life he held for a
moment in his own. Nol no! he could
not give it up. And yet, this other
call, which had been with him, it
with a puzzled expression.
At realization of his speech his con-
fusion became complete, and suddenly
hie one idea was to escape her watch-
ful eyes.
“I—that is to say, er—it was Mr.
Jones entirely,” he stammered, “I—I
did nothing, nada! It was all the
bear.”
“But he Is your bear, evidently,” she
replied, “and I insist that he share
the thanks with you.”
“Thank you!” said Pedro eagerly.
“You do not know the exquisite de-
light— ei^-ah—oh! ” Gasping, he
sought to extricate himeelf from the
would seem,
grown too strong for resistance. Be-
"I liked that girl,” he continued I fore his eyes he must see the thought
since birth, was now awkwardness of the impulsive compli-
jdoud, “you should have seen her, Mr.
Jones; she had red hair. Not horrid
red, but red-gold like—like Joy! Ail
■crisp and curling it was. And such a
beautiful pale face. She looked at me,
of his heart depicted by the labor of
his brain and hand. He must paint!
He was an artist, an artist!
“I will go! ” said Pedro shudderlngly.
Then, as if shedding the past, he
you must know, but I did not dare to squared his shoulders.
ment he had half-blurted out.
“Forgive me, gracious lady, er—er-
I must go now!” he finished lamely.
“Well, I give you my most grateful
thanks, whether you take them or
not,” said she with a smile.
But he was now too embarrassed to
rally and did what one often does
speak, because she would not have an-
swered, and that would have been a
■tragedy. Why should she epe&k to a
ragged young man to whom she had
never been introduced? Of course,
*he would not! I wish she had,
though, because I liked her
Hut I could look at her. That was
Come!” said he to the animal. “We upon attaining a desired eituation: be-
shail return to camp and tell them
what we are going to do.”
Not until he was within a hundred
yards of the road did Pedro realize
that he had been trespassing on what
now evinced itself to be a country
estate of some pretensions; and at
-something! There was a line, amigo I this point the fact was made manifest
xnio, from her chin to the base of by the sight of a cedar and fir hedge,
ber throat—ah!” Near by was a closed gate, flanked by
He rolled over again, burying his pillars of old brick and soapstone, giv-
face in his folded arms. One long ing access to a narrow footpath which I looked like a retreat. For as long as
sigh escaped him, and then a second, wound along at the base of the hill he remained in sight she stood gazing
tor the mention of that beautiful line he had Just crossed. after him, her interest ln him cement-
from breast to chin had reawakened Apparently he had been dreaming I ed by his flight. With a sigh she was
bis subdominant problem—the prob- away the afternoon upon the farming I scarcely conscious of uttering, so faint
lem of his future, and of his life work, section of the place. The sloping I It was, she reluctantly turned in at
Happy as he was, he could no longer ground which lay between him and the 1 the gate in the hedge and went slowly
put off a decision regarding it. The hedge was smooth and soft, and tempt- j along the little winding path.
-craving to get at the occupation near- | ed by it, Mr. Jones lay down and
came suddenly panicky and ran away
fron\ it.
“I shall hold your words in my
heart,” said he, and then, with a ges-
ture half beseeching, half apologetic,
and wholly graceful, he swept his hat
upon his head, and, calling the bear,
set off down the road.
The wording of his speech was odd
and unexpected, and the manner of
his departure so precipitant that it
-eat his heart had been gathering
strength these many months past and
was now straining at the leashes of
bis will, tearing him from one dearly
loved way of life to another, scarcely
tried, yet which called him ceaselessly.
Was he to continue free—(a .mere
-dancer of bears) but free? Or should
be at last become a painter, chained
to his work by ties as strong as those
which held his bear, for all they would
be invisible?
Before his mental vision arose the
phantom of what he would fain inter-
rolled a little way. Then he got up
and trotted on some distance ln ad-
vance of his master. The road was
very near now, and there came a
sound of pattering footsteps from it
and the gwish of light garments.
Through the somber evergreens Pedro
could see a gleam of white, moving
swiftly. Then came the noise of heav-
ier tramping—a man’s step this time—
a man in haste at that. Then a wom-
an screamed, her frightened cry ring-
ing out sharply.
The bear, moved to curiosity by the
CHAPTER
pret and depict
The spires of sound, plunged through the hedge and
cities, smoke from the altars of com-
merce, teeming multitudes of men
and women. Shops, lights, color,
movement, broad boulevards adorned
by the equipages of the rich; narrow
alleys where the poor jostled and bar-
tered at push-carts ln the murky flare
of lamps; visions of broad roof-tops,
spreading acre on acre, mile on mile—
a veritable ocean of roofs stretching
far as eye could see, covering more
pain and passion than the heart could
know, more colored with Joy than the
band could depict.
But how could he let go the infi-
nite variety of every day? Ah! he
could not; H was Impossible! Re-
nounce the long, white road that led
to nowhere, yet which brought one to
a new place each hour? Renounce
the nights spent beneath the open
heavens: the sweet summer nights
among the meadow flowers; the win-
ter twilights, when he and the bear
cowered down together in the hay of
a lonely barn, or if they were rich,
procured the privilege of a tavern
kitchen with the spoils of the eve-
ning’s performance! Oh, blessed days
of Journeying among simple adven-
tures, tramping all^ through the noon,
or loafing long hours and dreaming!
Now, it was a group of children, laugh-
ing for glee at Mr. Jones’ dancing,
then a curious crowd ln a sordid vil-
lage street, enticed into merriment
and self-forgetfulness by hie antics. At
another time Mr. Jones, sedate and
full of decorous tricks, was solemnly
exhibited to the Inhabitants of a great
country house. And there were the
-road houses at night. Here he and
the bear would dance the “coquette
disappeared, and Pedro, grasping his
staff like a cudgel, set off down the
elope at a run, reaching the hedge
only a moment later than the bear.
The fragrant branches whipped across
the boy’s face as be rushed past,
emerging breathless upon the high-
way. A dramatic scene awaited him.
Down the road a thoroughly fright-
ened tramp was speeding from the ter-
rifying and wholly unexpected appa-
rition of the bear, a cloud of dust en-
veloping his horrified retreat. Close
to the gateway, her purBe clasped fran-
tically to her bosom, stood a girl, be-
wildered and alarmed—a girl whom
the last sunbeams bathed ln glory,
gleaming on her hair that was “red-
gold, like joy.” And to complete the
picture, there stood Mr. Jones, erect
upon his hind legs, his tongue lolling
out and his clumsy paws waving from
her to Pedro.
It was an introduction.
That she was almost as much
frightened by the bear a« by the
tramp, whose attempted robbery the
animal’s sudden appearance had frus-
trated, was clear. At sight of Pedro
she screamed again.
“Oh! the bear! Help, help! Oh,
take him away!” she cried.
“Abas!” said Pedro sharply, address-
ing hie pdt. But Mr. Jones did not
obey immediately, and for a moment
the three stood as if transfixed. Then
the bear dropped to all fours, and the
spell of the tableau was broken.
“Oh, how fortunate that you were
near!” she began breathlessly. “It
was a tramp. He wanted my little
silk purse . . . but the bear fright-
ened him away; he came so suddenly
t
A Belief In Signs.
But Pedro walked rapidly, so that
the bear bed difficulty in imitating the
pace. The youth had now definitely
made up his mind to take the new
course of action, for this second vision
of the beautiful lady had confirmed his
resolution, and he felt he must get
back to the others quickly, in order
to tell them before he had time to
change his mind. As he walked he
kept muttering “blue, blue!” and his
brows were knit furiously.
He had to pass some villas with a
semi-suburban look about them, and
then an elm-shaded street, where
commerce and conservatism rubbed
shoulders. Next, by switching off from
this neighborhood, he passed between
rows of frame houses, which dimin-
ished In their appearance of impor-
tance and prosperity the farther he
went, until finally the street, If such
it could properly be called at wAs
point, was fringed only by shacks that
leaned inquisitively over the gutters,
or braced themselves at a fearsome
angle against the slanting little gar-
dens at their backs.
When these humble habitations came
to an end there stood an old barn
amid a stony field, scattered over with
paper, rubbish and discarded cans. In
the lee of the dilapidated building a
fire was burning upon the ground, and
about it a group of people had gath-
ered. Over the blaze a kettle had
been hung, into which an old woman
was throwing greens from her apron, plied Pedro.
times back into Spanish, their talk
being as polyglot as their origin.
Now,*4o you want to hear,■ eh?” Pe-
dro asked, addressing the oompany
“If so, I shall tell my plan
Beau-Jean replied first, ln his deep,
husky voice.
Let the little one tell his notion.
The plans of Pedro have -brought
many a laugh, and so many a coin
from the crowd on the market street.
My shoes will not stand another
mending," said Hermania. "If Pedro
can tell a plan to get others I will
heed.”
"The lad has wit; did he not con-
ceive the praying trick for Koko?”
mumbled Old Nita. "Come, child,
what has thy brain devieed now to
help us?”
“Oh, don’t, don't!” cried Pedro.
“Why do you say these things on this
night of all nights? I cannot endure
it! Call me evil names, and abuse
me, rather! Please! It is almost too
hard for me to do, and yet T must!
Amigos! It Is for myself only that I
am planning—my notion will not help
you, alas! ”
He burled his face ln hie hands, and
for a moment there was an astonished
silence. Such an outburst of emotion
on the part of their joyous Pedro was
a thing undreamed of by any of them.
Into the silence the voice of Old
Nita broke tremblingly.
"Hast thou sinned, even as I, that
thou weepest so? What is it, Pedro
of my heart?”
“No, no!” he cried, raising his head.
"I have not sinned, but I have eeen
a iine—an exquisite curve from an
oval chin to the base of a white
throat.”
“Ah! in love!” exclaimed Rico and
Anna simultaneously.
“No; again no!” cried Pedro. “I do
not love It, but I’ve got to paint it!
There was another interval of puz-
zled silence, broken this time by Beau-
Jean.
“Oh, little Pedro,” said he, “what do
you mean by ‘paint it’?”
“Just that,” said Pedro, striving to
conquer his emotion. “I am going to
be an artist, a painter. Don’t you
understand ?”
The little group stirred relievedly.
This was nothing eo terrible, after all.
Then for a few moments all spoke at
once, voicing their relief. Hermanla’s
query made itself evident above the
clamor of the rest.
“But why does this distress you so?
Always, always you have made pic-
tures. Pictures of ue all, of every-
where, of everybody; always, always
scribbling little pictures upon bits of
paper! Where is the trouble?”
“The trouble comes because I shall
have to leave you all,” said Pedro
sadly. "I must go to the city, where
I can have the right things to work
with, and colors—colors—colors! I
must learn about them. It will be
hard, but I can do It.”
“Go away! Leave them!” Such a
clangor as they raised!
“I have tried not to do this,” he
said as soon as they let him speak,
“but I can’t help it. The art—-it
bosses me now!”
“But where shall you go?” asked
Nita.
“To New York; it is nearest,
them; something to make people no-
tice you.”
“Sure, but what?”
“That,” replied Pedro, “is just what
I can tell you. I have a proposition to
make.”
The man scowled at him for a mo-
ment, as though wondering at the im-
prudence of this whipper-enapper’s of-
fering to deal with him. Then Pedro
looked at him, and smiled one of those
vivid, startling smiles that were pe-
culiar to him, and usually took people
unawares, making them single back at
him before they really knew what they
were doing. Nor did it fail this time.
The flaccid face of the lunch-wagon
man expanded Into a broad grin.
“That’s it!” exclaimed Pedro.
"That’s what?” asked the man, grow-
ing serious again.
Oh, don’t spoil it!” cried the lad,
that smile is Just what you need
to attract customers!1
This time the man laughed.
"Well,” said he, “what is ycsir prop-
osition, young one?”
“I have some friends with me,” be-
gan Pedro; “all those over there and
the bears. We are all hungry, see?
Now I will paint you a picture on the
side of your wagon, and also I will
paint for you a new sign; and if, when
I have finished, you agree that the
sign and the picture will bring you
customers in the future, you will feed
us all, not forgetting the bears, eh?”
The fat man considered a long time
before replying, and Pedro watched
him anxiously.
“Well,” he said at last, “the old dog-
wagon couldn't look no worse’n it do
now; an’ my stock what I have laid in
will get spoiled if it don’t get eat.
You can have a try, young one, if you
like.’
“Hurrah!" said Pedro, «md hurried
over to tell Nita and the others.
A musty hardware store that also
sold grain and lumber, furnished a
The suggestion needed no second- I ^ew crude materials. The fat man
Ing. With groans and complaints they P®id for them, and Pedro carried them
got to their feet agajn, and set off for over to th® cart ®®^ to Jv’ork-
the village “Please, one thing.” he begged of
But fate was not smiling upon them its proprietor, "don’t you look till a£
The town was almost de-1 i® finished.
seated themselves upon the dead grass
beside the mile post that bore the dis-
couraging legend:
N. Y. 25 M.—Harrison 1 M.
By this time all were tired and hun-
gry. Worse yet, the bears were hun-
gry—a condition to be reckoned with
before the need of the masters.
"Let us go,” suggested Pedr*, "into
the town which this dusty road leads
to, and dance the bears, pass the hat,
and eat, eh?"
just then,
serted at this hour. Besides which,
near the end of the performance, Toto,
who was supposed to “sing,” raised his
voice from hie usual growling mono-
tone to a hungry growl. That sent the
watchers running off in all directions.
Ruefully Old Nita counted the earn-
ings.
“Only seven pennies in all,” she
complained. "Better to have rested
beside the railroad.”
It is not enough to feed one bear,
even,” remarked Beau-Jean, “and I am
as hungry as two.”
Meanwhile Pedro was talking to
himself. “Yqu got them into this;
otherwise they would have traveled
the regular way. Now you get them
out.” Then Pedro noticed a dingy
lunch wagon by the broken curb,
some fifty feet away. At the entrance
to it stood a fat man with a dismal,
flabby face' His hands were tucked
beneath an apron whose immaculate
whiteness shone out conspicuously
among the gray surroundings. The
man was motioilless, as though he had
become petrified while waiting for cus-
tomers who never came.
‘Ah!” said Pedro aloud, "I have an
idea! Stay where you are, all of you,
until I beckon.”
Then, thrusting his hands Into his
pockets, he strolled nonchalantly away
ln the direction of the lunch wagon.
It was a dingy affair, as has been
said, and upon its tawdry sides the
lettering had grown dim. Still, it was
easy enough to make out the inscrip-
tion:
—The Elite-
Pies, Coffee, Milk, Frankfurters
Over the doorway was an invitation
to “walk in,” and underneath this the
owner’s name—“Isaac Lovejoy, Prop.”
—had been printed small. Pedro
sidled up to the individual who, it
would seem, bore this name and title.
“Business thriving ’bout here?”
asked Pedro conversationally, by way
of an opening.
The man gave him a glance, but
without moving to do so.
“Nope!” he replied.
“What! In a place where travelers
must pass so often?” Pedro exclaimed,
lifting his eyebrows.
“Yep!” said the man, still motion-
less.
“What is the trouble? Are there
no travelers?”
“Travelers, all right,” said the fat
man, “but no Customers! No one stops
here!” 4
“What’s the trouble, do you think?”
Pedro inquired.
“The lunch-wagon trust!” exclaimed
the man. “I’m an Independent, I am;
but everywhere I go where there
might be good business doin’—say a
corner near a factory, or any such
real wide-awake place—one of them
trust wagons Is tsere before me, all
shined up an’ covered with gold paint
an’ plate glass! A fellow like me
ain’t got no show.”
“Why don’t you spruce up a little,
then, eh?” asked Pedro.
Near her, his back against the bam,
lay a giant of a man, with a patch
over one eye. This was Beau-Jean, the
mighty Provencal, who at this moment
was engaged in carving an elaborate
design upon the base of a bear-stave;
while beside him lay the great animal
whom he ruled, asleep with its nose
tucked under its paws. Two younger
women—Gunny, Beau-Jean's wife, and
sturdy Hermania, wife of Carlos (who
lay asleep near by).—were mending
their shoes. At a little distance,
Anna, the pretty and irresponsible,
was weaving a garland of bright,
golden maple leaves, Rico watching
adoringly, the while he pretended to
And how will you live?” from Car-
los.
“I do not know."
“Who will teach you?” queried Her-
man la.
“I do not know.”
“And those colors, where will you
get them?” asked Anna.
“I do not know.”
“And knowing nothing, you are yet
determined to go?” Beau-Jean de-
manded.
“Yes,” answered Pedro, stubbornly.
“Then,” said Beau-Jean, with a sigh,
“it is our plain duty to help you.”
“How will you do so?” asked Pedro
eagerly.
"Why don’t you buy somethin’ so’s
I’ll get the money for to buy the gold
paint with?” retorted the other.
“Because I have no money,” Pedro
replied.
"Same reason here, in answer to
your tirst.” cried the fat man trium
phantly.
“Supposing, now,” said Pedro, “that
I could put you on the right track
to competing with thoee trusts, eh?”
“What d’yer mean?” demanded the
man.
“Those wagons* of the trust—they
are all alike?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Lovejoy, “all the
same; and very slick and fancy.”
"Aha! Then what you want is
something entirely different from
All right," agreed the man, “111 ait
here, Just inside the door, and read
outer the paper till you're done.”
Pedro answered nothing, but gave &
glance at a little mirror that hung
just opposite to where the uncon-
scious Mr. Lovejoy sat, whipped off
the old green coat and began working
frantically.
The proprietor settled himself on
the little stool near the door, and,
faithful to his promise, unfolded a
pink evening paper. Cautiously, and
speaking not at all, Old Nita drew
near, leading Mr. Jones. They sat
down in the dust beside the step and
watched Pedro in silence. Then came
Beau-Jean and Koko, followed by
Gunny, who settled themselves beside
the old woman. Before half an hour
was gone all the town, for the first
time in the lunch wagon’s history, had
clustered before its door. As for Pe-
dro, he had forgotten that there was
a world which might come to gape
and criticize. He was working.
But if the painter was unconscious
of the crowd, the proprietor was not.
Twice he wanted to move, but dared
not; and as the crowd increased, so
did his impatience.
For half an hour longer or more Pe-
dro worked, glancing now and then at
the little mirror just inside the door,
in which Mr. Lovejoy’s unconscious
face y as reflected. There began to
be an occasional tittering from the
crowd, and then, later, spontaneous
bursts of laughter.
‘When kin I come out?” cried Mr.
Lovejoy at intervals, and—
‘Walt,” commanded Pedro. Fever-
ishly he added the finishing touches to
his production, and then at length
stood back and invited his patron to
descend. As the fat man came down
the steps there was a little burst of
applause which he was at a lose to
understand until he stood before his
transformed place of business.
All the old lettering, already faint,
had been obliterated, and in the cen-
ter of the largest space was a portrait-
head of himself—a large, laughing por-
trait, just like him. yet irresistibly
merry. It wae a face at which one in-
stantly smiled in sympathy; indeed it
wore the very “smile to attract cus-
tomers,” as Pedro had said. Over this
extraordinary production Pedro had
painted in neat, black letters:
I. Lovejoy
Eating Is Joyful
Come in and Eat—
I Love to See You Do It
Then underneath:
Lovejoy’s Luscious Lunches
After a moment of spellbound si-
lence, the fat man drew a long breath.
“You win!” he eald to Pedro, a
smile like that ln the picture over-
spreading his large countenance.
In a second the square was ln an
uproar, the crowd expressing its de-
light noisily. Mr. Lovejoy fed them
all generously. Then, just as the
weary Pedro was accepting a cup of
coffee and a gigantic plateful of dough-
nuts from the hand of his patron, the
whir of an automobile caused him to
look around. All unperceived, it had
been standing near for some time,
and now bestirred itself at the ap-
proach of the train it had come to
meet. As it moved away, a girl in the
rear seat stood up for a last backward
look at the little crowd, and then,
against the clear, blue of the sky, Pe-
dro beheld a fleeting vision of red-
gold hair.
(TO BE CONTINUED.)
Marvels of Science.
“Some day we’ll be telephoning
through the air without wires.”
“Maybe. But won’t it seem queer
to have an operator call back to you
and say, The air Is busy now!’”
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Morton, George M. The Cumby Rustler. (Cumby, Tex.), Vol. 23, No. 25, Ed. 1 Friday, September 18, 1914, newspaper, September 18, 1914; Cumby, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth770323/m1/3/: accessed June 29, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Hopkins County Genealogical Society.