Photoplay (Jul - Dec 1921)

Photoplay Magazine — Advertising Section The Photograph 97 (Continued) sez he. 'Names is the easiest part uh the whole business. Let's have a look at 'em! They're friends uh mine . . . the best friends I got ! ' "I wasn't lookin' fer that, somehow, not from his manner, but I hadn't much time to think what I was goin' to do because jest then when he said that the young feller an' the girl come down the stairs at the end of the lobby an' the fat man begins to laugh. Yes, sir, that's the truth — he begins to laugh, under his breath almost, with his cold eyes like two slits an' his mouth very hard an' set . . . an' the young feller stops an' looks at him . . . an' the girl, Mrs. YVainton . . . the girl jest puts her hands to her throat an' slides in a little heap to the floor. " 'So you've found us at last!' sez the young feller at the foot of the stairs. 'Yes,' sez the other. 'I have. I'd like to have the pleasure of a few minutes' conversation,' he sez, 'alone!' 'Sure,' sez the other. An' all this time he's lookin' at the girl, not techin' her, lettin' her be whar she lay. 'Mr. Gritting,' he sez, 'will you have the goodness to ask Mrs. Gritting to step this way. My wife's fainted.' An' at that the fat man jest laughs like he's tickled to death. 'Don't disturb her,' sez he, 'mebbe she's better left like she is till we've had our talk! She'll come to fast enough after I done with you, I bet!' "An' even then, Mrs. Wainton, I don't see how things is. I ain't quite lackin' in common sense, neither. No, sir! I slips across the lobby into the kitchen an' fetches Ellen. When I come back the two men are in here, in this very room, talkin'. The girl opens her eyes an' fer a minute she don't seem to know what's been happenin'. An' then all of a sudden she remembers. 'Whar is he?' she sez. 'What have you done with him?' Ellen sez to her she ain't to worry. Everything's all right. 'Your husband,' she sez, 'is talkin' to his friend in the dinin' room.' An' the girl . . . Mrs. Wainton, she looks like she's goin' out of her mind. 'My husband!' she sez, jest like that — 'my husband! with him! Why did you let him?' she sez. 'Why did you let him? Couldn't you see what he was like? He'll kill him,' she sez. 'I know what he is. Oh, God! ain't I suffered enough!' Yes, Mrs. Wainton, them was her very words. ' Suffered enough !' "Waal, I was kind uh scairt. I don't mind tellin' you. 'What do you mean?' sez I . . . an' the girl . . . the girl gits to her feet an' goes to the door of the room here an' tries the handle. 'You can't come in,' sez a voice. 'Keep out!' 'They've locked the door!' sez the girl. Very white she is an' like to go off in a faint again any minute. I run round to the kitchen, then, but the other door is locked, too, so I go back to the lobby ag'in. No, they won't open. Them two is in this room here by themselves . . . talkin' . . . jest talkin'! We can't hear what they say, neither. The girl keeps rattlin' the handle an' callin' to them to let her in. Ag'in an' ag'in, like she's crazy! Say, I guess she was crazy, too! Yes, sir, I guess she was. An' thar we are, in the lobby, me an' Ellen standin' round, lookin' at each other, not able to do nothin', an'' the girl on her knees by the door, cryin' an' sobbin'. "The voices is gittin' louder an' louder, an' more angry, an' the girl is beatin' on the door with her fists an' cryin': 'Let me in, let me in, fer the love of God!' like that. But they don't take no notice a-tall. An' then, sir, it happens, jest as I'm savin' I'll break the door in. Two shots, one after the other . . . quick . . . an' the noise of a man fallin' on the floor an' then silence. Yes, sir, jest like that ! Jest silence. An' then we hear footsteps, slow an' heavy, an' the door opens an' the girl screams . . . an' the man with the cold eyes . . . the fat man . . . stands lookin' at her, grinnin' like he's amused. 'Well,' he sez, 'it's me all right. No need to be scairt, dearest! No need a-tall! I'm glad I found you, you poor little thing!' sez he. 'You've had a hard time of it with that yeller cur ... a hard time . . . but it's over now . . . you're comin' home an' you're goin' to be happy ... so happy ... so doggone happy you'll hardly believe it!' An', say, did he mean it ! Did he mean it . . . nothin'! His eyes is like snake's eyes an' he's lookin' at the girl like he hates her. She jest kneels at his feet, all huddled up an' quiet, like she's dazed. 'Is he dead?' she sez in a whisper. 'Is he dead? Fer the love of God, tell me is he dead?' " 'No,' sez the fat man, 'oh, no! he's not dead, my purty one!' He laughs an' teches her with the toe of his boot. 'Git yer coat an' hat an' make haste . . . the sooner we're away from here the better,' he sez. An' to me he sez: 'He shot at me first!' He looks at me like he's darin' me to argue. 'He shot at me first,' he sez. 'Understand that, without warnin'!' Yes, Mrs. Wainton, that's what he tells me outside the room yonder, with the girl still crouchin' in a heap on the floor, moanin' like she's hurt, an' Ellen lookin' sick an' Tom Lurt, he's the hired man I has in them days, an' Lord knows who else crowdin' into the lobby. 'Yes,' sez he, 'he fired firs£. I guess he'd uv added to his other sins by murder!' That man, talkin' of murder or sins, hey! That devil! He taps the girl on the shoulder. 'Come on,' he sez, 'come on home — it's gittin' late!' But the girl don't move, an' Ellen . . . she's scairt, too, Ellen is, only she don't show it, much . . . she asks him what right he has to tech her. 'What right?' he sez. 'What right! An' ain't a man a right to his own wife? His lovin' wife!' He has his gun in his hand an' he looks like he wants to use it. 'Anyone want to argue?' he sez. What can we do? What can we do that would help any? 'Go git me a coat or something to wrap her in,' sez he. 'An' make haste!' An' then I speaks to the girl. 'Is he your husband?' sez I. 'Oh, yes!' she sez. 'Oh, yes! he's my husband . . . ' Poor little girl! say, it's tough on her, the whole business! Tough as . . . as . . . well, it was terr'ble tough! An' then the husband . . . that fat, coldblooded swine . . . takes hold of her by the arm an' lifts her to her feet, but she can't stand . . . she's off in a faint once more . . . an' so he has to carry her out to the buckboard. "An' that was the last I seen of her. Or of him, neither. She went away, poor little thing, leavin' the man she loved with a bullet wound in his chest, an' never a word to explain what it meant. But we knew all right . . . we knew at last ! Married to that devil, hey! An' why . . . God knows. Twenty-five years too old for her, an' bad all through. Yes, sir, he was bad, that man was, you'd only to see him once an' you knew what he was without askin'! An' why had she married a man like that, hey? God knows! Whether her folks had made her, or what . . . it's been a mystery to me to this day!'' Sol paused. "And the other man?" asked the girl almost under her breath. "He died. Yes, Mrs. Wainton, he died, next mornin'. We had a doctor quick as we could from Santa Teresa, but he couldn't save him. A bad time that, Mrs. Wainton ... a bad time. Folks goin' round on j Tour ^Vacation Hat A comfy hat that is chic, lovely and stylish, and stays in place all day long! That is what the Vacation Girl needs. And that is what she gets in the Priscilla Dean Tarn. No matter what the outdoor sport — whether it's boating, motoring, walking, tennis orgolf— 'ru fri>cill<x. yeatx Jam., TOAOC MA»H COPTOGHT b the stylish, practical head gear. And it always stays in place! An inner, elastic band permits the tarn to fit any head snugly and comfortably. And it's so pretty! The modish drape of soft, beautiful "Suede Like" makes a charming frame for any face. The cloth is also strong and durable. 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