Photoplay (Sep - Dec 1918)

Photoplay Magazine — Advertising Section Old Hartwell's Cub 115 (Continued reached the bottom of the back staircase as Bill, a raging animal, burst into his empty room. Nervously Ed waited at the station. The train was due; why didn't Mary hurry? She had gone home to say a final goodbye to her father, after the magistrate at the neighboring county seat had made them man and wife. Bill stood in Ed's room, wondering which way to go. The whistle of an incoming train drew his attention; that was it: the station! He was down the stairs again and running. Ed saw him coming and waited, trembling, for the train had whistled at the crossing. In five minutes a big, angry blacksmith can inflict considerable punishment upon a smaller man. When Bill, taking Ed by the collar, threw him on the train, his suitcase after him, Mag Jones, proprietress of the Delmonico Saloon in Chico, Arizona, wouldn't have known her recreant husband if she had met him face to face. Bill, his rage somewhat assuaged, turned back to resume his quest of the minister, and met Mary Lane. Mary looked at him in horror. "Why did you do that?" she cried. "He's my husband!" Bill's jaw dropped; he was stunned. This put an entirely different face on the matter. "I'm sorry," he said humbly. "I didn't know." Angrily Mary turned on him. "You are a meddlesome boob and I hate you!" Sadly Bill turned away. On the ground lay a letter. He picked it up; it was addressed to Ed. It must have dropped out of his pocket in the struggle. Silently he handed it to Mary. "Is — is your father home," he inquired. Tears came to her eyes. "No, and I've got to go without bidding him goodbye." Mary turned the letter over. It was addressed to Mr. Ed. Jones, Chico, Arizona, and in the upper left-hand corner was the address of a firm in Milwaukee, Wis. Hesitatingly she removed the inside sheet, and her eyes, wide and startled, took in the contents — "Mr. Ed. Jones, Chico, Ariz. Dear Sir: — We are shipping you the case of Old Time whiskey by express, as ordered. The balance of the order will come by freight as usual. Yours very truly, Scholberg & Company. Mary sat down in the station to think. So Ed had deceived her! He was a dealer in whiskey, not in bibles. Finally she came to a decision. She was his wife. She had no choice but to follow him. She could not face certain disgrace. She would board the next freight. Seated in the caboose of the freight, Mary's thought turned achingly backward. What a mess she had made of everything! But she would write to her father as soon as she found Ed. In the note she had left him she had told him of her marriage; he would know that she was safe. She might have been more disturbed if she had seen the Reverend Lane pale under the accusations of a delegation from the Ladies' Aid Society, demanding the money which had been in Marv's trust; from page 66) if she had heard his frantic reiteration of his belief that there was some mistake. And her heart might have received a new wrench had she seen Bill Hartwell come to the rescue of her father with a hundred dollars of his own savings which he informed the irate Ladies' Aiders, Mary had intrusted to him at the last minute. But Mary couldn't know these things; nor could she know that Bill found death had been before him, when he at last, with the minister, entered his humble home. Poor old Tom's raging thirst was quenched forever. He lay quiet and still, a quart whiskey bottle lying empty on the floor. In a little mid-Western town there was great rejoicing. Ed Jones had come back to his own — meaning his wife, Mag, and the Delmonico saloon. Back in Matherville, two lonely hearts were growing more troubled day by day. There had been no word from Mary, and, worn with anxiety, deprived of his daughter's cheery smile and her tender care, the Reverend Lane had become but a morose shadow of himself. As Bill Hartwell, smoking his lonesome pipe of an evening, thought of him and the agony of his waiting, he came to a decision. He would go to the town that he remembered as the address on the face of the letter which Ed had dropped. A week later Bill dropped off the train at a junction point and was informed that as his train had been late, the stage had just left for Chico. A man, leading a handsome horse, walked up to him and queried: "Did I hear ye say ye wanted to get to Chico?" At Bill's nod, he continued, "You're in luck, stranger. I promised to send this hoss back by the noon stage, but I missed her, too. You can ride him to Chico. Turn him over to Ma — " he stopped. He would play a joke on the tenderfoot. "Turn him over to the sheriff." Steve Marvin was an expert horse thief, as well as a joker. He had stolen the horse a few days before, and had given him to Mag Jones in payment for a gambling debt, the night before. He had even given the unsuspecting Mag a paper to show that the horse was hers, but had asked permission to ride him to the train. The outraged owner of the horse, whose name was Benton, the wealthy owner of a cattle ranch, had taken a couple of his cow punchers and was already on the trail of the thief. Bill never got to the sheriff's orifice. In three hours he found himself on the main street of Chico, facing the business ends of several revolvers, backed by a crowd of determined men. "Come on boys," cried one. "Let's get the job over before the sheriff gets back to town. Put him on the hoss he stole." Then there was pandemonium, as the blacksmith, fighting for his life, laid about him with arms like flails. Men toppled over like nine pins, but others closed in. The commotion reached the ears of the loungers at the Delmonico saloon, and of its proprietors. Ed ran to the scene of the fracas. Mag, with the new waitress whom she had hired recently, stepped out on the porch of the saloon. Struggling desperately, but overpowered, Bill recognized through the dust and dirt. YOU can buy this watch, which shows the time in the dark as clearly as in day, for only $2.25. In Canada it's $2.50. Real radium in the substance on the hands and figures does it. The luminosity is guaranteed for the life of the watch. The accuracy and reliability of the movement is assured by the guarantee that has safeguarded the buyers of over 50 million Ingersolls. The Waterbury Radiolite,$4.50.inthe United States— $5.00 in Canada; jeweled, sturdy, small and stylish. ROBT. H. INGERSOLL & BRO. 315 Fourth Ave. New York Boston Chicago Montreal San Francisco 1 Light B Hattiolite ft EC. U S. PAT. OF When you write to advertisers please mention PHOTOPLAY MAC;