Judge — April 6, 1912 — page 14: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Egged on at Easter; or the Caprice of a Cruel Coquette. CHAPTER I. THE STRANGER'S SECRET. ssLJIstT!” These words fell from the lips of a tall, distinguished-looking man, rather commonplace in appearance and not over the average height, who glanced around the crowded aisles of Higgle & Sniggle’s mammoth emporium, during a marked-down sale of colored chalks and a special drive in harness to mark the joyous Easter. What could it mean? Perhaps Edgar Eastlake, the elevator boy, knew. But, if so, he said nothing, except to glance suspiciously at the stranger who stepped into the elevator. “‘Dogeake department,’’ murmured the latter hoarsely. CHAPTER II. THE SIREN'S SPELL. Cora, the cash girl, was one of those faultlessly beautiful girls who have golden hair and peachblow complexions all seasons alike, regardless of the ex- pense. « She was but a sub-cashier in the em- ploy of the great firm of Higgle & Snig- gle, but for twenty years she had been known as the cash-girl coquette. Whis- pers of her great beauty had been “* DOGCAKE DEPAKTMENT.’” By ROY L. McCARDELL wafted abroad, and the haughty Duke of Dedbroke had sworn she should be his. He reckoned without Ed, the elevator boy, a lad who was bound to rise, and with whom Cora, the coquette, had plighted her troth. The duke had halted her now, and, as she was making change for a customer “POR THE LAST TIME, WILL YOU MARRY ME?” during the rush hours, she was in no hurry and paused to parley with the nobleman in her usual blithesome way. CHAPTER III. FROM POVERTY TO THE PEERAGE. “For the last time, will you marry me?" hissed the proud scion of a race of belted earls—under Marquis of Queens- bury rules. “Are you a real duke?’’ she asked listlessly. For answer, he opened the dress-suit case he carried with him and took out his title, and, disentangling it from the soiled haberdashery in which it reposed, unrolled it before her eager eyes. One glance showed the heartless co- quette that the title was guaranteed by the Title Guarantee Company. “‘Aubrey, | am yours,’’ she whispered softly. And, faithless as she was fair, forgetting the troth she had plighted Edgar, the elevator boy, forswearing her promise to love him through all his ups and downs, she fled to become the proud bride of a ducal coronet. . . + . . . As for Edgar Eastlake, he said noth- ing; but, by his grim and determined air, it could be seen that it were not well if the Duke of Dedbroke crossed the path of the pale, imperious elevator boy. One day he disappeared, and it was rumored that he had become a plumber. “*He will move in the same social circles as his royal rival,’ his friends said sig- nificantly; ‘‘then heaven help Aubrey, the Duke of Dedbroke!"’ CHAPTER IV. EGGED ON AT EASTER. The years had waxed and waned, and once again Easter came with crocuses and chills, and Nature donned her new spring garments of green, and all over the world fair femininity was fain to be eke and likewise newly garmented. The fair Duchess of Dedbroke petu- lantly paced her boudoir in the east wing of Hankypank Towers, the old ancestral seat of the Dedbroke family. In vain the duke besought her to be patient. “Have I not bought you a duck of a bonnet, a bird of a hat?”’ he asked. “HE UNROLLED IT BEFORE HER EAGER BYES."” comicbooks.com