Photoplay (Jan-Jun 1920)

ii6 Photoplay Magazine — Advertising Section ARE YOU POPULAR? Ijft thia famous player be your inBtrui-tcir. Learn to produce wonderful melodies on the Hawaiian Ukulele. No more exquisite musir exists, x Draw to yourself charmed cir -**■ fles of friends— know the delightP of ijupularity. Write at once, A^k how you car obtain ASSOLUTELY FREE a aeim ine Ukulele. (;iV4^n away to introduce finrry J. Claikc'.s new and wonderfully easy system ot Instruction by mail. Small cost — great results! Write Mr. Clarke per.-.onany today, HAWAIIAN INSTITUTE OF MUSIC 1 400 Broadway Depl. 3-F New York. N. Y rQlUllllillllillljIllllllllllllllllllllllllllllillllinl Going Some (Conthmed) 'Miz" Gallagher's eyes flashed with hate. Then Mr. Speed in the brave but scant attire of a runner jogged by with his trainer waddling on his trail. "Miz" Gallagher clapped her hand to her head. "Oh, Lord— in hb. B. V. D.'s!" She was gasping for breath. Roberta appeared and "Miz" Gallagher bristled. "Got anything to bet on that naked sheep tick?" Roberta was dumbfounded. "Why, why — why, yes," she managed to reply. "I'll wager you a box of chocolates against a pair of silk stockings." "Miz" Gallagher was never so outraged. "I'll bet you my ranch against yours and that's giving you big odds," the cow woman screamed. Roberta caught a sight of Donald on his vigil with the horses in the yard. "All right— it's a wager. I hate the place anyway." ".'Vnd what's more woman, I'll bet you my cattle against your measly sheep that you've made a bad bet," "Miz" Gallagher • was boiling in wrath. And that became a bet, too. Donald Keap discovered two disturbing things. First that there was an oil drill operating on the Flying Heart, second that Ladew, the oil operator, was paying court to Roberta, and it appeared that she was finding him interesting. Donald made bold to call on Roberta with a protest. Not two words would she hear. "Mr. Ladew has hardly mentioned marriage— and besides I shall marrv him if I want to." Meanwhile training camp matters were growing strenuous for Speed. His anxiety was hardly greater than Larry's as they prayed for the arrival of Culver Covington. To make matters worse Willie, the gun man housekeeper of the Flying Heart, was becoming highly critical on the subject of raining. Willie to his horror and pain discovered Speed in a hammock tete-a-tete with Helen. Speed danced to the tune of a six gun for this infraction of training rules. Speed might have succumbed under the strain of this intensive treatment had not at last a wire come: "Everything fine. Am on my way. Culver." Speed, not dressed in running clothes, was first out of the ranch house when the motor bringing Culver rolled into the yard. Culver hobbled out of the car — on crutches, one foot in bandages. "Just broke my little toe," he laughed. Speed fell limp against Larry. The trainer's forehead was covered with cold sweat. Off across the ranch the hidden drilling outfit struck oil. "We've got to grab the ranch before the news gets out," Ladew exclaimed to Stover, and together they hurried toward the ranch house. Their arrival was an interruption of the greeting to Culver. While Roberta talked to Ladew, Larry and Speed seized their opportunity to draw Culver aside and take him into confidence concerning the race and their predicament. Culver listened attentively, looking pityingly at Speed as the confession unfolded. "Not a chance for me to run," Culver said at last, "You'll just have to see it through and do the best you can," Meanwhile Ladew was pushing his plan. i;\ii.v ailvertiscmejit in I'HOTOPL.^Y MAG.VZIXL is guaranteeti.